Profoundly moving, The Black Ball is a masterpiece to be cherished for all time.
Leave it to Almodóvar to make a film that is as sweet as it is self-indulgent.
The setting is fascinating, and the acting superb, yet Minotaur still feels oddly traditional.
Emotionally inert, Sheep in the Box is an oddly sterile story about grief that lacks the humanity needed to handle its complex topic.
Finely crafted and expertly acted, but so aggressively long and dry it robs the picture of its power.
Grotesquely overlong and painfully superficial, The Unknown could perhaps work as a short film, but not as a feature.
Tender and elegantly told, Coward is a beautiful small film about love in the midst of gargantuan events.
While Sanguine occasionally stumbles in its ambition, this is a thoughtfully scary and funny satire that succeeds far more than it fails.
Frustratingly shallow and limited in its vision, Fjord raises heavy subjects, but refuses to engage with them on a meaningful level.
Heartbreaking and oddly uplifting, The Man I Love is a soulful elegy for those we've lost, and how they stay with us forever.
A romanticized story of martyrdom that is far more fascinated with the pain and torture than it is the subject itself.
The whole film is like a masterfully crafted eclaire, fluffy and light, and potentially delightful at first bite, but then nothing but empty calories without any payoff.
