Cannes Film Festival 2025: IFFR-Backed Selections

A spread of films and talent presented at IFF Rotterdam's CineMart and backed by the Hubert Bals Fund are once again a fixture of the Cannes lineup in 2025. Catalan filmmaker Carla Simón brings her family trilogy to a close with Romería, a moving story of love, yearning and family anguish, this time through an adolescent lens as orphan Marina travels to meet her grandparents in Spain. Erige Sehiri's second feature Promised Sky focuses on a pastor whose home becomes a refuge for Naney, a young mother seeking a better future, and Jolie, a strong-willed student, before an orphan girl arrives and tests their solidarity.

Italian-American filmmaker duo Alessio Rigo de Righi and Matteo Zoppis continue their investigation into the legends and myths of Italian folklore with the surrealist Italy-set Western Testa o croce? (Heads or Tails?). The name derives from a bet between Buffalo Bill’s American cowboys (who visited Italy with their Wild West Show in 1890) and Italian cowboys over which team was better at taming wild horses. The film follows two young lovers on the run, played by rising French star Nadia Tereszkiewicz (Red Island) and Italy’s Alessandro Borghi (The Eight Mountains), with John C. Reilly co-starring as Buffalo Bill.

Renowned Japanese filmmaker Koji Fukada has made a number of highly acclaimed features across the last fifteen years dealing with “domestic disequilibrium”, including Harmonium (2016)—which won the Un Certain Regard Jury Prize at Cannes—A Girl Missing (2019), The Real Thing (2020) and Love Life (2022). Inspired by real cases in Japan, his latest, Love on Trial, follows Mai, a rising J-Pop idol whose big break is threatened when she falls in love, violating the “no love” clause in her contract. The project was presented at CineMart in 2022, where it picked up the IFFR Young Selectors Award.

March is mourning his wife Nat—who has recently passed away due to dust pollution—when he discovers her spirit has returned by possessing the vacuum cleaner. So begins the premise of Thai filmmaker Ratchapoom Boonbunchachoke’s unique, playful, genre-mixing debut A Useful Ghost (pictured top). Boonbunchachoke’s short Red Aninsri; Or, Tiptoeing on the Still Trembling Berlin Wall won the Junior Jury award at Locarno in 2020. A Useful Ghost was supported by the HBF+Europe: Minority Co-production Support scheme in 2023, where it received €60,000 of production financing.

Source: IFFR

Image: THE PR FACTORY

Cannes Film Festival 2025: Belgian Selections

Several Belgian-funded titles will be screening at this month's Cannes Film Festival (13–24 May), including Cédric Klapisch's Colours of Time, Sylvain Chomet's The Magnificent Life of Marcel Pagnol and Momoko Seto's Dandelion's Odyssey. In Colours of Time, four cousins discover they share a mysterious family history; in 1895, their ancestor Adèle, then aged 21, leaves her hometown to search for her mother in a Paris bustling with newfound avant-garde creativity. As her descendants retrace her steps, they unravel Adèle's past. The two timelines of 1895 and 2024 intertwine and collide, confronting the cousins’ contemporary attitudes with life in late 19th-century Paris, leaving everyone’s future forever changed.

Animated Luxembourgish co-production The Magnificent Life of Marcel Pagnol focuses on the eponymous author. At the height of his fame, Pagnol is commissioned by the editor-in-chief of a major women’s magazine to write a literary serial, in which he is free to recount his childhood. As he pens the opening pages, the child he once was—little Marcel—suddenly appears before him. In fellow animated title Dandelion's Odyssey, four dandelion achenes that survive a series of nuclear explosions are propelled into the cosmos. After crash-landing on an unknown planet, they set out in search of soil where their species might survive. However, they must face countless obstacles: the elements, fauna, flora, the climate.

Source/images: THE PR FACTORY

1st MIFF (30/5/24–2/6/24)

The inaugural edition of MIFF runs May 30th–June 2nd in London’s Leicester Square. Championing the narratives of international Muslim filmmakers and highlighting their compelling stories, the Muslim International Film Festival is also a platform for productions inspired by Muslim culture and faith, embracing filmmakers of all backgrounds. At a time of polarised public opinion and a prevalence of negative portrayals of Muslims in the mainstream media, MIFF has arrived on the international film festival circuit with a mission to celebrate and amplify the diverse voices that explore the rich tapestry of Muslim experiences via the medium of film. 

This first edition showcases the breadth of Muslim storytelling with premieres of acclaimed new features set throughout the world including the UK, Morocco, Turkey, Tunisia, Jordan, and Sudan. MIFF is supported by UK Muslim Film (UKMF), a charity working to change perspectives by championing underrepresented talent and voices, both onscreen and behind the camera. UKMF recently worked as cultural consultants with C4’s comedy drama Screw, ITV’s Good Karma Hospital, C4’s Hollyoaks, and Columbia Pictures’ Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire, ensuring that cultural and faith-based aspects of storylines are portrayed accurately. 

  

Sajid Varda, Festival Director of MIFF says: “We’re absolutely thrilled to bring this festival to London, where we’re on a mission to weave together cultures through the magic of cinema. MIFF is not just a festival; it’s a vibrant celebration of cultures and stories from across the Muslim world, providing a spotlight on talented emerging and seasoned filmmakers from all corners of the globe. As we bring together the film industry and filmmakers alike, our line-up features some of the most courageous and creative minds – each one bringing their A-game to the big screen. These are stories that pack a punch, that resonate deep within, and remind us that there’s more that unites us than divides us.”

 

The 1st MIFF opens with the London premiere of Belgian co-production Hounds. A multi-award winner including Un Certain Regard Jury Prize at Cannes, it portrays a father and son in the suburbs of Casablanca who get by on petty crimes for a local mob. Acclaimed supernatural drama Behind the Mountains sees a man who violently breaks free from his banal environment, evading society with its principles, codes and institutions. A multi award-winner at festivals including Cannes and Red Sea International Film Festival, Inshallah a Boy (pictured above) sees a widow pretend to be pregnant with a son to save her daughter and home from a relative exploiting Jordan’s patriarchal inheritance laws.

Source: Stuart Haggas

Image: BFI

LFF 2023: Red Rooms

Canadian filmmaker Pascal Plante made quite a splash on the festival circuit with his two previous narrative features, Fake Tattoos and Nadia, Butterfly, which competed at Berlin and Cannes, respectively.  In keeping with this trend, Plante's latest film, the compelling, unsettling Red Rooms (French: Les chambres rouges) has been selected for the BFI London Film Festival, where it screens out of competition as part of the Cult strand on Sunday, October 8 and Monday, October 9.  Red Rooms' appearance at the LFF comes just a few months on from its world premiere at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, where it vied for the festival's Crystal Globe; while it ultimately fell short in its bid to secure the KVIFF's main award (which went to Blaga's Lessons), the film's presence at both Karlovy Vary and London cements its director's position as a European festival mainstay.

The LFF's Cult section, while always worth a perusal, is particularly strong this year, with Red Rooms taking its place alongside the likes of Bertrand Bonello's keenly anticipated The Beast, Frankenstein riff Birth/Rebirth, and belated sequel Nightwatch: Demons Are Forever.  With its firm emphasis on the aftermath of violence, the highly implicit Red Rooms has a connection to another Francophone title from this year's LFF: The Spectre of Boko Haram.  While, on the face of it, Plante's film has little for gorehounds to sink their teeth into, its non-transgressive appearance should fool no one: the black-hearted Red Rooms is strong meat, and a difficult film to shake off.  It is anchored by a terrifically unnerving performance from Juliette Gariépy, who stars as Kelly-Anne, a successful model who spends virtually all her spare time following every detail of the trial of Ludovic Chevalier (a wordless turn from Maxwell McCabe-Lokos), who is charged with the brutal murders of three young girls.    

The trial of Chevalier proves to be something of a media circus, and Kelly-Anne regularly camps out in the cold in order to secure a spot in the public gallery.  It is while waiting for entry into the courthouse that Kelly-Anne meets Clémentine (Laurie Babin), a virtually penniless young woman who is convinced of Chevalier's innocence.  The rather taciturn Kelly-Anne tentatively strikes up a friendship with the chatty, slightly jittery Clémentine, who eventually takes up Kelly-Anne's offer of a place to stay for the remainder of the trial.  We hear graphic descriptions of the murders, all of which are revealed—in one of the film's queasiest developments— to have been broadcast live to one of the darkest corners of the internet, to which the highly tech-savvy Kelly-Anne has access.  Footage of two of the killings is used as evidence in the trial, yet the the third murder video has eluded everyone; while attempting to locate the missing recording, the dogged Kelly-Anne—who has accrued a sizeable pot of cryptocurrency through online poker—puts herself in real danger.   

But what exactly is Kelly-Anne's interest in this particularly grim case?  As Red Rooms begins, this wealthy model could easily pass for a relative of one of the victims, but she soon emerges as a more militant take on Clémentine's murder groupie.  Kelly-Anne's full-bore devotion to the cause—which culminates in a nightmarish, jaw-dropping scene that sees her dragged from the courtroom—leads to a rift with her justifiably alarmed agent, while the previously bellicose Clémentine refuses to cross a line that her host has long since breezed past in the quest to discover the truth about these crimes.  Yet it is not the fate of Chevalier but rather the mystery of what makes the inscrutable Kelly-Anne tick that gives this deliberately paced film its dramatic heft, and Pascal Plante keeps us guessing until just before the final credits roll.  Red Rooms' suggested atrocities instil a rising tide of anxiety that makes for a nerve-shredding couple of hours; this claustrophobic horror is a masterclass of less is more filmmaking, and is quite unlike anything in recent film history. 

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI

Cannes 2023: Dutch & Belgian Selections

All To Play For (Dir: Delphine Deloget)

Sylvie (Virginie Efira, above) lives in Brest with her two children, Sofiane and Jean-Jacques. Together they form a tight, happy family. One night, Sofiane hurts himself, alone in the apartment while his mother is out at work. The incident is reported and Sofiane is placed in foster care. Armed with a lawyer, her brothers and her children’s love, Sylvie is confident she can overcome the bureaucratic and legal machines.

Omen (Dir: Baloji Tshiani)

Following Kofi’s return to his birthplace after he has been ostracized by his family, Omen explores the weight of beliefs on one’s destiny through four characters accused of being witches and sorcerers, all of them intertwined and guiding each other into the phantasmagoria of Africa.

The (Ex)perience of Love (Dirs: Ann Sirot, Raphaël Balboni)

Rémy and Sandra (Lucie Debay, above) are unable to have a child as they suffer from “Past Love Syndrome”. In order to be cured, they only have one solution: they have to sleep once again with each and every one of their past lovers.

Vincent Must Die (Dir: Stéphan Castang)

Random strangers have suddenly started attacking Vincent with murderous intent. His life as an unremarkable man is overturned, and as things spiral violently out of control, he is forced to flee and change his life completely.

The Other Laurens (Dir: Claude Schmitz)

Gabriel Laurens is a private detective. When his niece, Jade, asks him to investigate her father’s death, the detective must confronts the ghosts of his past. Gabriel finds himself caught up in a strange investigation mixing pretence, fantasy, and drug trafficking.

Source/images: THE PR FACTORY

EO (Jerzy Skolimowski, 2022)

In the near 60 years since Jerzy Skolimowski's first feature Rysopis, the veteran director has had a rather spotty career, with his most interesting work appearing in the 1970s, when he turned out the likes of Deep End, The Shout and King, Queen, Knave.  In 2015, Skolimowski directed the largely unmemorable 11 Minutes, which many at the time may have assumed to be the filmmaker's swansong; yet seven years later, Skolimowski—who turns 85 next month—returned with the remarkable EO, which arguably stands as his finest film.  EO—whose title is an approximation of the sound made by a donkey—is a quasi-remake of Robert Bresson's 1966 classic Au hasard Balthazar, a work widely considered to be one of the greatest films of all time.  Such was the universality of Bresson's outstanding film that Jean-Luc Godard famously declared it to be "the world in an hour and a half"; with this in mind, a new take on Au hasard Balthazar sounds like a fool's errand—and it almost certainly would be were the film in the vein of Gus Van Sant's ill-fated stab at Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho.

Fortunately, Skolimowski's film is a highly unorthodox remake, one that shares little with its nominal inspiration bar the central character; in these senses, it's cut from the same cloth as Werner Herzog's riotous riff on Abel Ferrara's Bad Lieutenant.  EO begins with the donkey of the title performing as part of a circus act in which he stars alongside the caring Kasandra (Sandra Drzymalska), who has built a deep bond with EO.  It isn't long before animal rights protesters secure the release of EO, with the distraught Kasandra watching on helplessly as her beloved donkey is bundled off in a trailer.  From this point on, EO embarks on an odyssey in which he experiences a wide spectrum of human behaviour, with his fraught, perilous journey across Europe recalling that of the main character in Václav Marhoul's The Painted Bird; as with Marhoul's film, EO is an episodic affair, one that sees its protagonist stumble from one situation to another, with every encounter beginning as an unknown quantity in which he must wait to see if he's in the presence of friend or foe.  Skolimowski, like Marhoul, appears to take the worldview that cruelty is much easier to find than kindness.   

Which is not to say that the film is all doom and gloom: Skolimowski punctuates this stressful ride with moments of real humour, and EO's inscrutable features are used to good effect in this regard.  In EO, Skolimowski taps into the humble, immutable nature of donkeys—as Bresson did in Au hasard Balthazar—but he also infuses EO with a layer of mischief that sets him apart from the title character of Bresson's masterpiece, as does his general demeanour: more everyman, less Christ-like.  Or is this simply what we project onto EO (or Balthazar, for that matter), who over the course of the film is played by six different donkeys?  Smokilowski's film may centre on an animal, but it reveals a great deal about humans—be they on the screen or in the audience—and it is very surprising that this incredibly insightful work didn't win the Ecumenical Prize at Cannes (although it did leave the festival with a well-deserved Jury Prize).

As EO makes his way across the continent, the various environments he finds himself in are often as baffling to the viewer as they are to the endearing donkey.  Whether watching a hotly contested football match or visiting the palatial home of a haughty countess (a late, gasp-inducing cameo from Isabelle Huppert), EO approaches matters with an indifference that stands in sharp contrast to the range of human emotions on display.  While EO seems to be very accepting of life and all its hardships, Skolimowski inserts some dazzling sequences which suggest that EO is capable of dreaming—which might well be the case.  If Charlotte Wells' equally heartbreaking Aftersun highlights the silent gap that separates children from their parents, EO prompts us to ponder the mysterious relationship between humans and animals; we think we know all about them, but how do they perceive us?  This formally daring film makes for a moving, immersive experience, one that lingers in the mind long after the end credits have rolled.

Darren Arnold

Images: I Wonder Pictures

Oldboy (Park Chan-wook, 2003)

Park Chan-wook's brutal Oldboy turns 20 next year, and for this special anniversary the film will be re-released in cinemas.  Nearly two decades ago, the Raindance Film Festival hosted the film's UK premiere and now, as then, the festival proves to be ahead of the curve by showing the film on the big screen just before its wider release rolls around.  A superb 4K restoration of Oldboy has been available on home video for some time but, given the film's legion of fans, this is unlikely to impact on the ability of a theatrical re-release to do decent business.  The Mavericks strand at this year's Raindance sees Park's film screen alongside three other titles from the nineties and noughties that received their UK premieres at the festival: Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction, Eduardo Sánchez and Daniel Myrick's The Blair Witch Project, and Christopher Nolan's Memento.  Of this trio, it is Memento that has the strongest thematic connection to Oldboy; both of these revenge films feature a desperate protagonist who's largely in the dark as to the origin of his great misfortune.  

While Nolan's jaw-dropping film may be the better of the two, Oldboy is still a terrific ride, and one that is most definitely not for the squeamish.  Its outing at this year's Raindance coincides with the general release of Park's new film Decision to Leave, a typically immaculate yet strangely unsatisfying work that wowed the festival circuit, with Park scooping the Best Director Award at the most recent edition of Cannes.  Oldboy is the middle instalment in Park Chan-wook's Vengeance Trilogy, which began with 2002's Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance and concluded with 2005's Lady Vengeance.  While all three films received great acclaim, Oldboy remains the highest-profile entry in this gruelling triptych and, a decade on from its initial release, the film's considerable success led to a poorly received English-language remake directed by Spike Lee. 

It is quite difficult to say much about Oldboy's story without venturing into spoiler territory, but the action centres on Oh Dae-su (Choi Min-sik), a father, husband and businessman who is suddenly abducted while drunk; Dae-su is then taken to a private prison where he is held without explanation for 15 years.  During his incarceration, Dae-su learns that his wife has been killed and that he is being framed for her murder.  Upon his sudden, mysterious release from the facility, he attempts to find his daughter, but learns that she has been adopted by a family in Sweden; Dae-su then switches his attention to tracking down those responsible for his imprisonment.  While stopping off at a sushi bar to consume a live octopus, Dae-su meets young chef Mi-do (Kang Hye-jung), and the two form a close bond.  Dae-su's dogged enquiries eventually lead him to powerful businessman Lee Woo-jin (Yoo Ji-tae), who may know a thing or two about the terrible fate that has befallen our protagonist.

Oldboy's brilliance is partly due to the way in which it puts both its central character and the viewer in the same position, à la Memento, with the audience and Dae-su in sync with each other as the grim revelations start to pile up.  Dae-su's quest for vengeance is a particularly horrifying one, and thankfully Park scatters a few crumbs of absurd humour to ensure that viewers make it through what is a very intense experience, the pinnacle of which takes the form of a late face-off between Dae-su and his nemesis Woo-jin; it's a bravura moment, and one of the finest sequences in Park Chan-wook's filmography.  While much has rightly been made of Choi's incredible performance in Oldboy, Yoo is equally superb in the less showy role of Woo-jin, and it's a pity that his excellent contribution here is often overlooked, with discussions on the film frequently revolving around any combination of Choi, Park and the very unfortunate octopus.  Over the past 20 years, Park Chan-wook has made some fine films—2013's Stoker is particularly impressive—but he has never bettered the black-hearted, mesmerising Oldboy.

Darren Arnold

Images: Mongrel Media

Anton Corbijn: Inside Out (Klaartje Quirijns, 2012)

Anton Corbijn: Inside Out is een uiterst intiem en onthullend portret van een invloedrijk kunstenaar en het resultaat van bijna vier jaar filmen door regisseur Klaartje Quirijns. Haar persoonlijke band met Anton geeft haar een ongekende toegang tot zowel de man als zijn werk. Anton Corbijn is een van de veelzijdigste en invloedrijkste visueel kunstenaars in de popcultuur van de laatste dertig jaar. Hij is van grote invloed geweest op de beeldvorming van wat roem en kunstenaarschap inhoudt in de late 20e en vroege 21ste eeuw.

Als fotograaf, heeft hij een grote bijdrage geleverd aan het vormgeven van het imago van artiesten als Joy Division, U2 en Depeche Mode. Ook droeg hij bij aan het herdefiniëren van de iconografie van artiesten als The Rolling Stones en Metallica voor een nieuwe generatie. Hij maakte al snel de overstap naar film door het maken van videoclips. De laatste tien jaar heeft hij zich hiernaast toegelegd op het maken van speelfilms. Zijn eerste film Control, over het leven en de dood van Ian Curtis van Joy Division, is onderscheiden in Cannes en tijdens de BAFTAs. In 2010 kwam zijn tweede speelfilm The American uit met in de hoofdrol George Clooney. 

In het karakter van Corbijn is een fascinerende paradox te ontdekken. Voor iemand die, van een afstand beschouwd, een glamourous leven leidt omringd door beroemdheden, is hij verrassend ongeïnteresseerd in rijkdom en bekendheid. Hij is bescheiden en, boven alles, heel erg nuchter. Hij leeft voor zijn werk of lijdt er misschien ook voor. Dit komt overeen met zijn strenge protestante opvoeding in het kleine dorpje Strijen op het zuidelijkste eiland van Zuid-Holland, waar zijn vader de dominee was. Hij is opgegroeid in een huis met als achtertuin een begraafplaats. Bewust en onbewust lijken deze elementen uit zijn jeugd in zijn werk weerspiegeld te zijn. 

Corbijn is compromisloos in zijn werk en lijkt te leven volgens de waarden waarmee hij opgevoed is. Ook is hij altijd aan het werk en heeft hij de kans op een gezin opgegeven voor zijn carrière. Inside Out onderzoekt Antons jeugd en huidige leven en zoekt daarmee de oorsprong en betekenis van de thema’s in zijn leven en werk: opoffering, roem, religie en de dood. De film laat zien wat hem drijft en wat zijn ideeën zijn over de moderne iconen die hij heeft gecreëerd. Voor de eerste keer heeft Corbijn volledige toegang gegeven tot zijn leven en contacten. Klaartje Quirijns onthult de kunstenaar die zich lang voor het publiek verscholen heeft gehouden en hoe hij zichzelf ziet. Ze legt zijn karakter en werkwijze bloot door middel van kritische en inzichtelijke interviews met onder andere Bono, Herbert Grönemeyer en Metallica maar bovenal met de man zelf. Dit heeft geleid tot een intiem en onthullend portret van een zeer belangrijk kunstenaar van de postmoderne popcultuur.

Source/images: Flanders Image

Slumber Party Massacre (Danishka Esterhazy, 2021)

Like many a Roger Corman production, 1982's The Slumber Party Massacre certainly possesses a ragged charm, and the same could be said of its two sequels.  Each film in the trilogy has a different director—nothing too unusual about that, but it's the fact that all three directors are female that makes the series stand out from the typical horror fare that peppered the 1980s.  There's a sly wit at play in all three films, yet it's the ludicrously unhinged (and NSFW) "Let's Buzz" sequence in the second instalment that always sticks in my mind; it's a marvellously OTT scene, one that provides a tantalising glimpse of what Grease may have looked like had it been directed by Abel Ferrara.  The guitar featured in "Let's Buzz" makes a fleeting appearance in the new Slumber Party Massacre—which drops the definite article from the title—and the inclusion of this deadly instrument provides welcome proof that those behind the remake are tuned in to both the content and humour of the original films.  

While the 2021 version of Slumber Party Massacre—which had its sales poster art unveiled at Cannes and will be available digitally on 13 December—is a work that's described as a "modern reimagining" of the original movie, in truth it probably sits halfway between homage and straight-up remake.  A good comparison might be the 2019 take on Black Christmas, which put a contemporary spin on both Bob Clark's horror classic and its crass 2006 remake.  Although 1974's Black Christmas is a far more accomplished film than the original Slumber Party Massacre, it's actually the latter that has benefitted more from the remake treatment; while the 2019 Black Christmas was not without its moments, it was a bit too on the nose, whereas the 2021 Slumber Party Massacre employs a subtlety that isn't immediately obvious amidst all the blood and chaos.  Even if its limited budget occasionally shines through—it's quite evident that not all of the death scenes could feature top-drawer effects, so some judicious editing has been employed—director Danishka Esterhazy has mounted a fairly handsome production, one that was filmed entirely in South Africa with a local cast.

Beginning in 1993 with a cabin slumber party in which almost all of the attendees come to a grisly end, the film then moves to the present day and the home of sole survivor Trish (Schelaine Bennett), whose daughter Dana (Hannah Gonera) is about to join her friends for a girls' weekend in the country.  As is to be expected, Trish is most nervous about Dana heading off to a gathering that sounds remarkably similar to one that concluded with several young women being butchered.  Equally unsurprisingly, Dana seems very relaxed about it all, and her friends Maeve (Frances Sholto-Douglas), Breanie (Alex McGregor) and Ashley (Reze-Tiana Wessels) soon arrive to pick her up; en route, the girls discover a stowaway in the form of Maeve's younger sister Alix (Mila Rayne), and it isn't long after this drama that the car breaks down on account of a problem with its radiator hose.  Forced to rethink their plans in order to salvage the weekend, the girls organise a new rental property at another campground, which is actually the site of the 1993 massacre operating under a (slightly) different name.

To say any more would be to spoil the twisty narrative that ensues, as Slumber Party Massacre manages, with some style, to pull the rug from under the audience's feet on more than one occasion.  Esterhazy has some experience in repurposing fondly remembered, decades-old material, given that she previously directed The Banana Splits Movie, and with Slumber Party Massacre she has fashioned a lively, smart slasher movie that manages to acknowledge its roots while feeling fairly fresh.  That the film—like all the entries in the original trilogy—comes in at well under 90 minutes is also a real positive, especially in the age of the bloated running time, and the story moves along at a nice clip.  Slumber Party Massacre may not be a perfect film, but it comes off especially well when you consider the glut of 80s horror remakes that have fallen flat; the likes of Friday the 13th, My Bloody Valentine, The Fog and Poltergeist are among those titles remade to mediocre effect.  Perhaps it helps that Slumber Party Massacre, like the series it's based on, is made on a budget that precludes anything too elaborate; should it maintain this level of quality, another instalment (or even two) would be no bad thing. 

Darren Arnold

Images: Strike Media

Babi Yar. Context (Sergei Loznitsa, 2021)

Babi Yar. Context was one of just two titles to fly the Dutch flag at last month's London Film Festival, the other being Paul Verhoeven's mildly outrageous Benedetta.  Cannes favourite Sergei Loznitsa—whose Den Haag-based production company Atoms & Void has been behind every one of the director's films from 2014's Maidan on—has quite a pedigree, with his past projects including Donbass, In the Fog and The Event.  Loznitsa is a filmmaker who's as at home with the documentary format as he is with drama, with Babi Yar. Context falling into the former category; as with the director's previous non-fiction efforts, the film mainly lets its footage speak for itself—although there are a smattering of title cards to signpost the way.  If you haven't read up on the film prior to watching it, the early stages might prove quite difficult to get a grip of, but it's not too long before Babi Yar. Context provides a bit of, well, context.     

Made with assistance from the Babi Yar Holocaust Memorial Center, Loznitsa's film takes a long, unblinking look at an atrocity that happened just over 80 years ago, when Sonderkommando 4a of Einsatzgruppe C massacred more than 33,000 Jews in Kiev's Babi Yar ravine. Like numerous horrors of WWII, the events of Babi Yar have largely remained out of public consciousness, but Sergei Loznitsa places us firmly in the centre of a nightmare as we witness civilians being brutalised for the duration of a journey that will culminate in their slaughter.  As appalling as this crime is, Babi Yar. Context mines much of its horror from something beyond the obvious: the indifference of many of Kiev's citizens, who carried on with their daily business as the bodies piled up. The apathy on display recalls the words of Albert Einstein: "The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything".

When the Nazis invaded Ukraine in 1941, many welcomed their presence; posters of Stalin were torn down, and Hitler was widely viewed as a great liberator.  Although the Red Army retook Kiev in late 1943, this was long after the executions at Babi Yar, which had since become the elephant in the room for locals understandably keen to brush over the atrocity that had taken place in their back yard.  Loznitsa doesn't shy away from showing us the victims of Babi Yar, and while no film exists of the actual killings, there's no shortage of footage of the endless mound of bodies scattered across the ravine.  Yet what is arguably Babi Yar. Context's most horrifying moment occurs when we are shown a dozen Nazi criminals being hanged in Kiev's packed main square; while we've already seen footage of the trials that preceded these executions, it does little to take the sting out of these graphic, distressing images.  The inclusion of such material is indeed a brave move, one that poses some very difficult questions; most viewers will be pleased to learn that these men were sentenced for their awful crimes—but how many will truly want to see the death penalty being carried out?             

While Babi Yar. Context cannot be described as an enjoyable experience, its real value lies in its assembling of this footage into a coherent whole, one which chronicles an event that has been all but erased from the history books.  The film is primarily of importance as a document of record, yet its director quite reasonably hopes that it also contains lessons for today and tomorrow.  Given its rather unusual content, Babi Yar. Context is a tough work to evaluate in typical terms, but the extremely worthwhile nature of the project eclipses any requirement for the film to entertain (or even engage) the viewer.  Some may wish for a little more in the way of commentary, but the film invites the viewer to read around the events of Babi Yar and other, similar atrocities.  Sergei Loznitsa's film makes for a chilling, sobering experience, and it operates firmly outside of our expectations of cinema—documentary or otherwise.   

Darren Arnold

Images: The PR Factory

Titane (Julia Ducournau, 2021)

Back in 2016, filmmaker Julia Ducournau's first feature Raw gained much attention, and in the half-decade since its release it has steadily built up a strong cult following.  A grim tale of cannibalism that tipped its blood-drenched hat in the direction of body horror maestro David Cronenberg, Raw was fairly strong—ahem—meat, and a quite striking debut.  Having made quite a splash with her first film, Ducournau had many eyes on her as she prepared her keenly-anticipated follow-up, which was preceded by a most cryptic synopsis: "Following a series of unexplained crimes, a father is reunited with the son who disappeared ten years ago. Titane: A metal highly resistant to heat and corrosion, with high tensile strength alloys, often used in medical prostheses due to its pronounced biocompatibility".  While I don't think anyone learned a great deal from that logline—except, perhaps, that titane is French for titanium—it certainly managed to create a fine sense of mystery for a film that held on to its secrets right up until it premiered at this year's Cannes Film Festival.

Of course, as many will now know, Titane did more than just premiere at Cannes: it scooped the top prize—the Palme d'Or—and in the process became the talk of the festival; anyone fretting (or hoping) that Ducournau would stumble with her second feature can now safely turn their attention elsewhere.  While at least some of Julia Ducournau's concerns haven't really shifted on from Raw, Titane is a superior film in almost every way.  Typically, the Palme d'Or attaches a heavy weight of expectation to its winner, but Titane effortlessly lives up to its tag as the film of the most recent edition of the festival; crucially, the film has considerable replay value, and in terms of content it is some way from being as outré as the headlines have suggested.  Certainly, the film is a fairly wild ride when compared to most of the summer offerings it has recently shared the multiplex with—Titane's general release serving to highlight it as a relatively shocking title, whereas the film would have come under far less scrutiny had its distribution been limited to the arthouse circuit— but it is by no means as transgressive as the hyperbole might have you believe. 

That said, Titane isn't exactly your run-of-the-mill tale, although its automobile-heavy opening stretch may mislead those who, having bought a ticket for F9, somehow find themselves in the wrong auditorium.  Titane begins with a young girl distracting her father as he's driving along, which quite predictably results in an accident; we fast forward some years to discover that the prominently-scarred girl has grown into a woman who dances for a living.  The woman in question, Alexia (Agathe Rousselle), is shown performing an exotic routine on the bonnet of a muscle car at a motor show frequented by leering young men.  See what I mean about potential confusion with F9?  Once she's finished her shift, Alexia receives an unwelcome approach from one of the show's sweaty, insistent attendees, and this ignites a gruesome murder spree.  Now on the run, Alexia decides to avoid detection by transforming her appearance in a bid to pass off as Adrien, a boy who's been missing for a decade.  Alexia cuts her hair and straps down her breasts, with both of these moves registering as merely uncomfortable, but she also decides that her nose isn't quite right; now, this part will make you wince.  Oh, and did I mention that Alexia has recently fallen pregnant?  And that the father just happens to be a car?

With the baby bump now concealed and her makeover complete, the impostor presents herself to Adrien's father, fire chief Vincent (Vincent Lindon), who appears to be the only one to overlook Alexia's hopelessly unconvincing turn as a male impersonator; the careworn Vincent, whose attempts to transform his own body involve painful-looking steroid injections, is so overjoyed by this reunion that it seems he just can't, or rather won't, see what the rest of us can see.  Lindon, as always, is terrific, while newcomer Rousselle delivers a superb performance—and she really has to, in order to keep up with her veteran co-star.  These two performers make it easy for the viewer to buy into this knowingly preposterous setup, which is propelled along by both Jim Williams' excellent score and tracks from The Zombies, Future Islands and The Kills.  With Titane, Julia Ducournau has served up a slice of audacious, supremely confident filmmaking; buckle up and let it take you where it will.

Darren Arnold

Images: Diaphana

Benedetta (Paul Verhoeven, 2021)

Believe it or not, half a century has now passed since the release of Dutch director Paul Verhoeven's first feature film, Wat zien ik!? (aka Business is Business).  In the years since, Verhoeven has shocked audiences both in Europe (Spetters, De vierde man) and across the pond (Robocop, Basic Instinct), all the while cementing a formidable reputation as an enfant terrible with major box-office clout.  As time has gone on, Verhoeven has slowed down—perhaps understandably, given that he's now 83 years old—and significant gaps have appeared between his projects; the Dutch-language Zwartboek was his first film in six years, and a full decade would pass between its 2006 release and his return to cinemas with Elle.  While his new film, Benedetta, has appeared a mere five years on from Elle, you do wonder when Verhoeven might decide to call it a day.  It will be a pity when he does as, ever since the mid-1980s, the release of a new Paul Verhoeven film has always been something of an event, and neither his reduced output nor his return to Europe from Hollywood—it is now over 20 years since his last English-language effort, Hollow Man—has impacted on the anticipation that precedes a new Verhoeven movie.

Benedetta premiered in competition for the Palme d'Or at this year's Cannes Film Festival, and while it didn't win—Titane, which will be reviewed here shortly, scooped the main prize—the film nonetheless enjoyed a high-profile outing at the first post-COVID edition of the festival.  As is almost always the case with Verhoeven's films, Benedetta is a work that sets out to ruffle more than a few feathers, yet it falls some way short of the transgressiveness of many of the director's prior films, including its immediate predecessor, the enjoyably trashy Elle.  The success of the controversial, highly successful Elle owed much to the committed performance of Isabelle Huppert, who received an Oscar nomination for her electrifying turn; I fully expected Huppert to turn up in Benedetta, and I can only speculate that the role filled by the excellent Charlotte Rampling was originally penned with Huppert in mind.  Given that Huppert played a similar part in Guillaume Nicloux's 2013 adaptation of Diderot's The Nun, perhaps it wouldn't have been the best idea for her to be cast here, if indeed she was offered the role; plus, it's always good to see Rampling at work.

Benedetta is adapted from Judith Brown's book Immodest Acts, and the title character is played one of Isabelle Huppert's Elle co-stars: the terrific Belgian actress Virginie Efira, who can consider herself very unlucky not to have been among the winners when Albert Dupontel's superb Bye Bye Morons netted a glut of César awards earlier this year.  In Benedetta, Efira's nun has been in a convent since the age of eight, and during her time there she's claimed to have been on the business end of several miraculous happenings—such as visions of Jesus and the acquisition of stigmata.  All of this is viewed with some scepticism by Rampling's stern abbess, whose demeanour grows yet more severe upon the arrival of a new charge in the form of Bartolomea (Efira's fellow Belgian Daphné Patakia), a rebellious type who wastes little time in entering into a romantic relationship with Benedetta.  On Bartolomea's frantic introduction—she's trying to escape her abusive family—the abbess points out that the convent isn't a charity, and asks the desperate girl if she has money; this frank discussion brilliantly illustrates how quick God's earthly ambassadors can be to move the goalposts when the time comes to help those in need.  1-0 to Verhoeven.

With Benedetta, Paul Verhoeven has set out his stall somewhere between Jacques Rivette's stately La Religieuse and Ken Russell's scabrous The Devils, yet the end product serves up neither the emotional point of the former nor the biting critique of the latter; furthermore, Verhoeven's film doesn't give the viewer much of an opportunity to invest in its characters, despite the sterling efforts of both Efira and Rampling.  And in spite of its best efforts to offend, Benedetta feels an oddly tame, muted affair—compared to 30 years ago, the bar has been raised considerably vis-à-vis what is considered to be outré, and Verhoeven is doing little more than treading water here as he rifles through the index cards of his past successes; in all honesty, it's quite disappointing to discover that this director's attempt at nunsploitation has resulted in one of the subgenre's milder entries.  It all feels a bit reheated, and the casting of Lambert Wilson and Olivier Rabourdin only serves to recall their work in Of Gods and Men—a much more affecting tale of monastic life.  Still, for all that, Benedetta generally works as lurid, pulpy fun, which is pretty much what we all want and expect from a Paul Verhoeven film.  You won't change him now.

Darren Arnold

Images: MatejFilmu [CC BY-SA 4.0]

Preview: Babi Yar. Context (Sergei Loznitsa, 2021)

Based entirely on archive footage, Babi Yar. Context reconstructs the events leading up to the massacre of 33,771 Jews in German occupied Kiev in September 1941, and the aftermath of the tragedy. “Just as other Holocaust crimes, the tragedy of Babi Yar is almost devoid of authentic visual representation - Nazi authorities banned photo and film cameras from the places of mass executions. However, it is possible to reconstruct its historical context through archive footage, documenting the years of German occupation of Ukraine. My aim is to plunge the spectator into the atmosphere of the time”, comments Loznitsa.

Babi Yar. Context is Loznitsa’s 7th film presented in the Official Selection of the Festival de Cannes. “I’m deeply grateful to Thierry Fremaux for his support and appreciation of my work! It’s a great honour and a great pleasure to be in Cannes again and, most importantly, it’s an opportunity to share this urgently relevant story. Babi Yar. Context is not a film about our past, it’s about our present and, possibly, about our future”, says Sergei Loznitsa. The film is produced by Atoms & Void with the support of the Babyn Yar Holocaust Memorial Foundation, and will be screened in the Séance Speciale section of the Festival.

Source/images: The PR Factory

La Civil (Teodora Ana Mihai, 2021)

It has just been announced that Belgian Flemish film La Civil by Teodora Ana Mihai has been chosen for the Official Selection of the Festival de Cannes 2021, in the ‘Un Certain Regard’ section. Following on from Hugo Claus’s The Sacrament in 1990 and Lukas Dhont’s Girl in 2018, this is only the third time in recent history that a Belgian Flemish production has been included in the prestigious official selection.

La Civil is the first fiction feature by Belgian-Romanian director, Teodora Ana Mihai (born 1981). The film tells the story of Cielo, a Mexican mother searching for her daughter who has been abducted by members of a drug cartel. As the authorities fail to help her, Cielo takes things into her own hands and gradually turns from housewife to avenging activist. The film was shot in November-December 2020 in Durango, Mexico, during the COVID-19 pandemic. La Civil is based on real events and is the result of several years of extensive research undertaken by the director in collaboration with Mexican writer Habacuc Antonio de Rosario.

The film was produced by Menuetto (Hans Everaert), an Antwerp-based production company in coproduction with high-profile partners, including the Dardenne brothers from Belgium (several Palmes d'Or), Cristian Mungiu from Romania (Palme d'Or) and Michel Franco from Mexico (Silver Lion, Venice). Cinéart will release the film in Belgium and the Netherlands in late 2021. “I am truly happy with this selection in Cannes. I’m incredibly grateful that it has been possible to tell this heart-breaking story of families who lost their children to drug cartels. La Civil is a film about a strong woman and mother who refuses to be a victim and defends herself. She is motivated by a primal force to find her daughter at whatever cost. It is a universal story that will touch everyone", says Teodora Ana Mihai.

La Civil was inspired by the terrifying stories of drug cartel victims and their families, such as the compelling and tragic life of Miriam Rodríguez, recently featured in The New York Times. The atmosphere of La Civil is reminiscent of the crime drama series Narcos, but is narrated from the victim’s point of view. Mexican writer Habacuc Antonio De Rosario co-wrote the screenplay with Teodora Mihai.

Source/images: The PR Factory

We Are One: A Global Film Festival (29/5/20–7/6/20)

Tribeca Enterprises and YouTube announced today the programming slate for We Are One: A Global Film Festival, which will feature over 100 films co-curated by 21 prolific festivals, hailing from 35 countries, in addition to talks, VR content and musical performances. The 10-day digital event will celebrate global voices, elevate films that have the power to create change and bring audiences from around the world together to create meaningful connections. Assembling some of the world’s most talented artists, storytellers and curators around a central effort to provide entertainment and offer relief in the form of supporting organizations responding to the COVID-19 pandemic, the festival will run exclusively on YouTube May 29 - June 7 at YouTube.com/WeAreOne.

We Are One: A Global Film Festival will give audiences an opportunity to experience different cultures through an artistic lens - each official selection was handpicked for inclusion to highlight the singularities of each participating festival, while also providing a voice to filmmakers on a global stage. Many of these titles will have significant debuts at the festival, with programming consisting of over 100 films, including 13 world premieres, 31 online premieres, and five international online premieres. A truly international festival, the programming will represent over 35 countries and will include 23 narrative and eight documentary features, 57 narrative and 15 documentary short films, 15 archived talks along with four festival exclusives and five VR programming pieces.

We Are One: A Global Film Festival will host a number of specially-curated talks, both archived from past festivals and brand new discussions, that will offer viewers a chance to revisit important moments in film. Talks will feature Francis Ford Coppola with Steven Soderbergh, Song Kang-ho and Bong Joon-ho, Guillermo del Toro, Jane Campion and Claire Denis. 360 VR selections will feature Emmy-nominated documentary Traveling While Black and Atlas V, a sci-fi narrative starring Bill Skarsgard, as well as additional titles with notable talent including John Legend, Oprah Winfrey and Lupita Nyong’o. There will also be special musical performances, including a 30 minute DJ set by Questlove.

The global festival will include programming curated by and unique to the identity of all participating festival partners, including: Annecy International Animation Film Festival, Berlin International Film Festival, BFI London Film Festival, Cannes Film Festival, Guadalajara International Film Festival, International Film Festival & Awards Macao (IFFAM), International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR), Jerusalem Film Festival, Mumbai Film Festival (MAMI), Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, Locarno Film Festival, Marrakech International Film Festival, New York Film Festival, San Sebastian International Film Festival, Sarajevo Film Festival, Sundance Film Festival, Sydney Film Festival, Tokyo International Film Festival, Toronto International Film Festival, Tribeca Film Festival, and Venice Film Festival.

True to its mission, We Are One: A Global Film Festival will seek to bring artists, creators and curators together around an international event that celebrates the exquisite art of storytelling. In doing so, it will aim to provide not only solace and entertainment for audiences during a time when it’s needed most, but also opportunities for these individuals to give back through donations to the World Health Organization (WHO), UNICEF, UNHCR, Save the Children,, Doctors Without Borders, Leket Israel, GO Foundation and Give2Asia, among others. Audiences will be able to donate to COVID-19 relief efforts through a donate button or link on every film page. The full festival schedule is available at www.weareoneglobalfestival.com.

Source/images: BFI

Atlantics (Mati Diop, 2019)

Last year, Atlantics' director Mati Diop made history as the first black female director to compete for Cannes' Palme d'Or; her debut feature went on to win the the festival's Grand Prix, only being pipped to the top prize by Bong Joon-ho's much-lauded Parasite.  Diop actually made her first short film way back in 2004, but in the years between that effort and last year's Cannes triumph she had become better known for her work in front of the camera, starring in the likes of Simon Killer and Claire Denis' excellent 35 Shots of Rum.  2019 came to a close with Atlantics ending up on both Netflix and the shortlist for the Oscars, and en route to these events it had also picked up the Sutherland Award for First Feature at the London Film Festival.  Not a bad year's work.

While Atlantics didn't make the final cut for the Oscars when the shortlist was chopped in half last month, its presence on Netflix will ensure the film receives way more exposure than it would have had in the times before streaming services.  The days of such a film being relegated to a limited release on the art-house circuit - before eventually turning up on a boutique home video label - seem to be fading; at the very least, such a fate is no longer a certainty.  While it will get a Blu-ray release - via the prestigious Criterion Collection, no less - later on this year, the lengthy wait which would once have been in place between the film's theatrical release and its appearance on disc is seamlessly bridged by the streaming giant.  The Netflix vs. cinema row has been raging for some time but, in the case of Atlantics, streaming's role is hard to argue against; a film which, had it appeared 10 or 15 years ago, would have been treated as a niche title can now share a home screen with the likes of Uncut Gems, Marriage Story and The Irishman.

Anyway, on to the film: Ada (Mame Bineta Sane),a young woman living in Dakar, is due to marry the wealthy Omar (Babacar Sylla).  Unfortunately, Ada's heart belongs to construction worker Souleiman (Ibrahima Traoré), who has been working on a huge, futuristic tower in the city.  Souleiman and his fellow builders are continually stiffed for wages by the developer (Diankou Sembene), which leads to them looking elsewhere for paying work, and they decide to attempt the perilous journey across the sea to Spain.  It's perhaps not much of  a spoiler to say that Souleiman and the others sadly don't make it to Europe; meanwhile, back in Dakar, Ada marries Omar, but their wedding night doesn't happen due to a mysterious fire occurring in the bridal suite.  To say what happens next would be to spoil, but suffice it to say that the film takes a sharp left turn, one for the better; it's really only once you reach the halfway stage that the film really starts to crackle and fizz, as Diop adds an extra layer to proceedings.

Much has been made of Atlantics' switch from realism to something altogether different, and it's a trick which has certainly been handled very deftly by Diop.  The film is wonderfully atmospheric, combining some beguiling cinematography with a driving, unnerving score.  Whether in the bustling streets of Dakar or by the side of the sea which plays a key part in the story, Diop shows a fine eye for light and colour.  It's a haunting, ambitious work, yet not without its flaws: there's an unevenness to proceedings which proves slightly frustrating, and the film really does take some time to get going.  But, all said, Atlantics is a fine debut feature, one which greatly impresses as it continually pushes into new territory - even if such moves don't always come off; Diop doesn't play it safe here, and there's much to like about that approach.  We'll be hearing from her for some time yet.

Darren Arnold

Images: image.net