Phuong Le

What 100 Meters lacks in narrative subtlety and pacing, it makes up for in dazzling visuals.

Here is a visual portal to a hidden side of a controversial artist – one that is not for sale.

The resulting documentary is anything but conventional.

Shot in tight closeup, Domagalska’s documentary brilliantly conveys the unseen psychological toll of this social work. At the same time, the film overflows with the joy of activism.

The film is elevated by the tender rapport between MacKenzie and Smith; when a film-maker is clearly captivated by their subject, the film can compel viewers to fall in love as well.

In addition to confronting the past, Mourão’s film also makes possible an intergenerational dialogue between Martim and his son, the young musician seen in the beginning; he also harbours his own secrets. Emerging from their conversation are sparks of understanding and compassion, which constitute the emotional beating heart of the film.

A Prince might reinterpret the pastoral through a queer lens, but the point of view remains a white, French one.

As Sokol’s style matures, Glob’s direction also becomes visibly more assured. The meandering beginning in which the film-maker’s narration does a lot of the heavy lifting soon becomes more stylistically coherent.

Though effective in filling in the gaps of Chau’s story, the impressionistic animation dramatising his final moments commits a similar sin as the swashbuckling tales of yore, and makes a spectacle out of a tragedy that is ultimately not all that mysterious or abstract – but in fact grounded in material sociopolitical contexts.

My Sailor, My Love is worth watching for Walker’s excellent portrayal of a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown and the damage accruing from being the perpetual caretaker of the family.

Cardboard characters aside, Elevator Game is also pretty sluggish, despite its relatively short runtime. Plodding through an endless string of dull shot/reverse shots between the quarrelling vloggers, the film finally reaches the dreaded fifth floor, but the payoff is tame and bloodless.

Considering the complex sociopolitics of the region, this representation of community and geographical identity is much more fragile than it seems, and should not be taken for granted.

As Blood Flower trudges towards its conclusion, the film turns out to be a lacklustre trauma-as-plot horror.

Pessoa and Barbosa’s earnestness shines through. Swing and Sway may be a visually and politically derivative work, but it also serves as a beguiling pandemic time capsule.

Despite beings shaky in terms of tone – as well with its occasionally obtrusive handheld camera movements – Lola impresses with its refreshing blend of analogue and digital flourishes.

Boonie Bears: Guardian Code is not going to blow the minds of the adults – or the more discerning little ones – but this can make for a fun, though possibly not very memorable, cinema outing.

The refreshing – and rare – blend of Jewish humour and horror makes Attachment a fun Valentine’s Day watch for those who like their queer romance with a sprinkle of spooky chill.

At nearly three hours long, The Wandering Earth II is packed with expository science talk, which gets more convoluted and tiring as the clock ticks on.

Thanks to the breezy chemistry between its largely Inuit cast, Slash/Back has an endearing charm that is hard to resist. From a first-time film-maker, this is a fresh, entertaining update on well-worn tropes.

Fizzy and bubbly, the film feels like a cool glass of lemonade on a hot day, leaving us with a pleasant reminder of the thrills that summer can bring.

Juggling palace politics, magical animals and medical ethics, The Deer King can’t get over major pacing problems: the emotional moments are not given enough time to land, as the plot rushes to its next world-building intrigue.

The film really comes alive when it simply lets Donna be the star of the show. From her spontaneous dancing in the streets to a moving reunion with her sister, her warmth and vivacity towards others distils the essence of LGBTQ+ solidarity.

While the effort put into research for this documentary is commendable, ultimately the aestheticisation of the information dampens its impact.

While occasionally emphasising that film-making is a collaborative endeavour, this is a cliche-ridden affair, reiterating the myth of the genius director whose pursuit of perfection is worth the detrimental effects it has on the cast, the crew and even the film-maker himself.

While refreshingly centring a British Asian protagonist, Khan’s film is hopelessly bogged down by a thin plot and cliched dialogues.

The recurring dependence on sexual violence as a shock tactic is, however, a desensitising misstep. Nevertheless the assured command of style situates Jabbaz as an impressive new voice in horror cinema.

While the juxtaposition of different timelines results in occasional clunkiness, the breathtaking cinematography more than makes up for the uneven telling. In the face of global climate change, these images of the glacial otherworldliness of Alaska carry a wistful splendour and a bittersweet urgency.

Despite its flaws, See You Then is an interesting opportunity to see trans talents in front of and behind the camera.