John Berra

Anchored by a lived-in performance from Wanlop Rungkumjad as a bedraggled migrant caregiver striving to maintain his humanity despite being exploited by his employer, this is a deeply sobering expansion of Chiang’s thematic focus.

It is a premise that facilitates a forensic examination of China’s family planning model within the quasi-futuristic trappings of its urbanised present. It is also paradoxically highly specific in its subject yet incredibly difficult to pin down in terms of its broader identity, as it skilfully skirts genre lines.

As a film concerned with the power of perception, The Goldfinger largely succeeds as a style exercise.

It packs a quiet emotional punch.

Streetwise is too familiar in terms of plot beats to completely stand out from the crowd but its unerring sense of place will nonetheless make Na a director to watch.

It’s rather meta since the backstory riffs on the star’s life and reputation, yet Yang gives the proceedings cross-generational family appeal through focusing on the protagonist’s deep bond with his steed.

Its blend of styles and sensibilities may be occasionally confounding, but Full River Red is certainly never less than entertaining in its richly inventive mining of history.

Although rarely as compelling as the estimable director’s finest achievements, it certainly merits attention as a sumptuously detailed evocation of a rarefied world defined as much by a unique set of rules as its abundant material comforts.

Although the premise is undoubtedly far-fetched, Malaysian director Sam Quah succeeds in constructing the kind of tightly wound suspense piece for which disbelief can be suspended.

He may not add anything new to the spy genre, but Zhang knows how to deliver a ripping yarn with the requisite panache.

It’s a largely harmonious blend of action, comedy and drama which derives much of its buoyancy from three well-cast leads who generate a credible sense of reconnection.

The result often verges on sensory overload but is nonetheless largely coherent and frequently inventive while evincing a determinedly dark sensibility.

Impressively for a piece of foundation-stage universe building, Jiang Ziya manages to hint at a world beyond the frame without mitigating its individual pleasures.

It is the film’s ever pertinent call for objectivity and humanity in the daily news cycle which makes it stirringly relevant.

Better Days may slide into somewhat hollow artfulness, but it’s hard not to be moved by its genuine concerns.

Only Cloud Knows doesn’t exactly reinvent the wheel as the catharsis of the final act hinges on revelations, but what could have been rather mournful instead becomes a poignant celebration of life thanks to Feng’s deft handling of patently sincere material.

Regardless of where it lands politically, Dying to Survive is a rousing piece of torn-from-the-headlines storytelling that delivers laughs and tears in equal measure.

The film is at its most arresting in its slick neo noir middle section.

If this focus on fleeting pleasures occasionally risks exoticizing the subject, Mayfair’s sensory approach to illustrating an almost unbearable absence of female fulfillment achieves a powerful universal resonance.

One Child Nation is an utterly compelling documentary that examines the consequences of this staunchly enforced ‘social experiment’. If it stops short of making an explicit political statement, a series of powerful testimonies leaves a harrowing micro-level impression.

Last Letter is snugly nestled at the sugarcoated end of the director’s tonal spectrum with its tale of a family tragedy which revives a high school love triangle decades after it had seemingly ended in heartbreaking fashion.

As much as BuyBust seems to be engineered for maximum excitement, it’s not without the complexities that are typical of Matti’s ambitious genre pieces.

Us and Them may be too familiar to thoroughly distinguish itself from the spate of similarly themed love stories that have been churned out following the breakthrough success of Zhao Wei’s So Young (2013), but it’s certainly one of the more nuanced entries in the cycle and bodes well for Liu’s future behind the camera.

It’s not until the end credits roll that one realises that Monster Hunt 2 is essentially an amiable detour in a bigger story, or enterprise, since Wuba is no closer to fulfilling his destiny. Yet when you have a star of Tony Leung’s magnitude selling out with such panache, it seems churlish to complain.