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I am not familiar with Japanese cinema. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of films I have seen from that country. But all the buzz around Drive My Car over the course of this year's awards season has made me curious. What could be so great about watching three hours of people driving around in a red Saab 900 Turbo and talking to each other? Answer: When it comes to fascinating and lost souls, there's a lot going on.

At the beginning we get the impression that everything is going smoothly in the marriage of Oto and Yusuke. After waking up in bed, they harmoniously go about their rituals, which they use to show their love for each other. As the film progresses, however, we are shown revelations that make us question what we have seen so far. Suddenly, another event happens that turns the entire plot upside down. And then, 45 minutes into the film, the opening credits roll. And I ask myself: "Is this the beginning of the real film"? The first hour is like a prologue, which most films explain with exposition. Director Ryusuke Hamaguchi keeps the camera on every little detail and thus lets language speak. The epic running time can possibly be explained by the fact that Hamaguchi has enough time in the remaining two hours to tell the central story of the film. Why not then simply show extensively how it comes about in the first place? Because the core relationship of this film is not between the couple. It is between Yusuke and the young chauffeur Masaki. Two completely different generations coming together. The protagonist is also worlds apart from the ambitious actor Koji. The more exciting the dialogues between all the characters, the more thrilling the directions in which the relationships move. Even secondary characters are of immense importance to the plot and its significance despite limited time.

Hamaguchi manages to make much out of little in three hours. Although the action takes place mainly in three localities, the ingenious script makes you feel as if you are in all of them at the same time. In particular, the emotional states that Drive My Car traverses are eerily resonant. So authentic, so natural and so beautifully filmed that you would love to get into the red speedster yourself. A quiet and intimate masterpiece.

After the ape comes the bat: Matt Reeves is tackling his next project after his highly acclaimed Planet of the Apes trilogy. Batman is to become darker, Gotham dirtier and its inhabitants even more corrupt and vicious. Even more so than it all was in Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight three-parter. An anti-superhero film, which actually only observes the hero and not the man under the mask, and shows how he sets out on his search for clues.

With the Riddler, Reeves introduces us to a villain who was last seen on screen in Joel Schumacher's Batman Forever. The Jim Carrey version was much more of a comic relief character than a bloodthirsty antagonist. Paul Dano plays a traumatised and mentally unstable avenger who seeks revenge on the city that has caused him so much pain. In parallel, corruption in Gotham around mob boss and mayor Carmine Falcone (John Turturro) is still a huge problem. Batman wants to put an end to all these tormentors. Robert Pattinson is the new Caped Crusader, although he always calls himself "Vengeance". Bruce Wayne is only in his second year as a crime fighter and is not a factor in Gotham in his life without a mask. He lives a reclusive life, is deeply sad and constantly focused in his head on his role as a hero. In this respect, Pattinson's version differs fundamentally from that of Christian Bale, for example, who played the arrogant pretty boy who was not too shy to make a grand entrance. In general, we hardly ever see Pattinson not in costume. When he inspects crime scenes with Lieutenant James Gordon (Jeffrey Wright), no one knows his identity. To the other cops, he's a freak who uses his fists more than his brains. To Catwoman (Zoe Kravitz), he is a mysterious introvert, but she immediately reads his privileged status in life. Kravitz carries this film in the first half with her confident portrayal of this internally fractured character. We see a Catwoman with a backstory and a clearly defined mission. So does the unrecognisable Colin Farrell as Falcone's right-hand man the Penguin. He provides most of the laughs in an otherwise humour-free film. Case in point: Pattinson's face shows something like a smile exactly once in three hours of running time. Andy Serkis, as the only human component in Bruce Wayne's life, suffers from the fact that this is a pure Batman film.

Judging by that, we get the character study of the title character that we never had in the Nolan films. To be that, the film puts too much focus on the investigation, interminable dialogue between characters and the depiction of filthy Gotham. Never has the city been so pessimistic and hopeless. It fits perfectly into The Batman, which makes you more depressed than happy. From a cinematic point of view, however, you can walk away from this film with a big grin on your face. Never has a superhero film been so beautifully filmed. The music by Michael Giacchino brings up thriller elements. And although the film is so long and at times sluggish, you sit riveted until the end. It's not packed with action (though one car chase is one of the best in film history), doesn't bristle with CGI effects and doesn't have a big showdown. It's the quiet, intimate superhero film we've never had.

Hardly anything is more difficult than bringing an acclaimed film series to a successful conclusion. There is always someone who disagrees with the ending, but on the other hand you also see happy faces. Christopher Nolan was thus faced with the virtually impossible challenge of ending the story of Bruce Wayne and Batman on a satisfying note. In the end, The Dark Knight Rises came out as arguably the most controversial hate and favourite film of an entire fan culture.

The template could not have been on a higher level for the final act of the three-parter. The Dark Knight is an all time fan favourite and for many almost a religion. Therefore, it was generally a lose-lose situation for Nolan. Yet the opening sequence of The Dark Knight Rises is the best of the entire trilogy. We get packed action on a plane and meet a new villain, the masked mercenary Banes, embodied by Tom Hardy. Apparently Hardy has stepped up his physical form in Warrior, because as Bane he is an absolute beast. As the impious terrorist, he is sheer terrifying and gives you the exact tension that such a visually seemingly indomitable villain should have about him. Above all, the threat he exudes on Gotham and Batman carries the film for long stretches. It's a pity that the protagonist comes up short in many moments for this reason. Nolan concentrates all the more on other new faces, such as Anne Hathaway's Catwoman, Marion Cotillard's Talia and Joseph Gordon-Levitt's John Blake. Not every one of them works; Cotillard is not particularly believable in the role and, after a certain scene, is more like a character who serves as a stopgap. Gordon-Levitt plays the role of the good-hearted policeman Blake with his usual charisma. However, the character is not interesting enough in relation to his screen time to completely pick me up. Only Hathaway manages to put her stamp on the iconic Catwoman with her desirable qualities. Although after a strong start, she suddenly all but disappears from the film and is merely used for convenience. Characters that were important in the first two films, such as Commissioner Gordon, Lucius Fox and even Alfred, come up slightly short because of the new characters.

Contrary to many others, I am not of the opinion that The Dark Knight Rises completely ruins the trilogy. The action is too great and the film enjoys too much the luxury of being able to rely on the virtues of its predecessors. So why is it the weakest film in the series and not really an ideal conclusion? Batman Begins is one of the few Nolan films that generates real emotion from its script. We get to know the inner life of Bruce Wayne and understand why he becomes this flawed vigilante hero. Nolan fails to evoke these emotions in The Dark Knight Rises. A troubled Batman on his final mission, he couldn't have picked a better premise for this. Instead, he distracts from the protagonist, plunges into plot lines that remain without real consequence and often make no sense in their logic. And then this ending...an ending that could hardly be more cheesy and unfair to this almost completely unromantic trilogy.

I'll be brief: yes, it's like everyone says. The second part of Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy is a milestone for the superhero genre in many ways. Of course, over the years, voices have piled up that the film is overrated. A word that is used far too inflationary in the film world. And yes, presumably in times of modern superhero films by Marvel and co, The Dark Knight reveals many previously uncertain weaknesses. However, it remains to be said that the genre, which was not very popular at the time, opened up new dimensions for the box office.

With over just over one billion US dollars, the 2008 film was the first superhero flick ever to break through that barrier. Since then, there have often been several films of this genre every year that have managed to do so. Films that are nowhere near as revolutionary and significant. The Dark Knight has left its mark not only in terms of box-office takings. It did not introduce a new villain from the comics in the form of the Joker, who had already been seen in previous films. But it was written and portrayed in such a way that people are still talking about it 14 years later. Heath Ledger's breakthrough performance has been talked about enough. To disappear into a role is one thing. How Ledger manages to reinterpret this already established villain and have such an impact on the central plot is truly masterful. Many think that The Dark Knight is only hyped because of Ledger's performance. Sure, that aspect has a huge part to play, but alongside the anarchic troublemaker, we have another memorable character with the introduction of Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart). In several ways Batman's great rival, his development is both stirring and heartbreaking. For never would one initially believe that Dent's plotline would take such a course in the third act. The paeans to these two iconic figures almost make it seem as if our protagonist is more of a follower under the mask. But rather, Batman is the ideal complement to the crazed Joker, who is the exact opposite of the Caped Crusader. Anarchy meets justice - a combination that throws Gotham into an almost impossible-to-manage chaos. Well-established characters around Alfred, Lucius, Rachel and the new police chief Jim Gordon also get more depth and their special moments in the long running time.

But it is not only the brilliantly realised characters that make The Dark Knight the masterpiece of its genre. While Batman Begins very leisurely builds up the transformation of Bruce Wayne into Batman, this time Nolan delivers an action firework from second one. The film very rarely settles down and when it does, it knows how to focus on the element that interests us: The characters. This time around, Nolan leaves out the darkness that hovers around Gotham and doesn't really rely on settings. For over two and a half hours, we get to see an exchange of blows between good and evil - carried by a wonderful Hans Zimmer score.

Don't worry, the flagship superhero trilogy has not passed me by without a trace. It's just that I saw the films at such a young age that I had almost completely forgotten about them until this rewatch. Given that the Caped Crusader is my all-time favourite superhero alongside Spiderman, and because the new The Batman (which I'll be watching soon) brings him back into the spotlight, I've ventured back and let Christopher Nolan's three-parter pull me back into the Gotham maelstrom.

It starts with Bruce Wayne's childhood and the origin story of his alter ego. Christian Bale took on the role of the troubled billionaire's son as a relatively blank slate in Hollywood at the time. What might not have made much sense back then turned out to be an absolute stroke of genius in retrospect. Bale brings everything that makes Batman and Bruce Wayne: the strong physique, the arrogant image to the outside world and the heroic appearance of the avenger under the mask. It is especially the human moments in which Bale shines like no other Batman actor. The film deliberately takes a lot of time to portray Bruce's childhood and the associated trauma in detail. This may seem too long-winded for many, but for me it helps enormously to get to know the human side of this dark superhero better. Because that's what has always set Batman apart from the other world saviours: His inner insecurities and the gift of not putting too much of a stamp on his good deeds. I particularly enjoy Bruce when he can show an honest, sometimes humorous side of himself with his closest allies. This includes the heartfelt dialogues with his loyal companion Alfred (fantastically portrayed by Michael Caine), the fiddling with the infamous Batman equipment with his right-hand man Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman as he lives and breathes) and the friendship with his childhood friend and great love Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes). Besides Batman, the heart of the film is Gary Oldman's good-cop Jim Gordon. He and Batman, despite their anonymity, share a fervent drive for justice and order. The antitheses to the two are Cillian Murphy as the manipulative psychiatrist Dr. Crane aka Scarecrow and Liam Neeson as Bruce Wayne's mentor Henri Ducard. Murphy plays this villain with all his charisma, Neeson remains largely pale as Batman's central antagonist.

This latter problem ultimately prevents me from enjoying Batman Begins in its full favour. The film builds up the iconic hero's origin story at the ideal pace and it also succeeds in transitioning from a trained, highly skilled fighter to a raging avenger against Gotham's evil. In the last third, however, the events come to a head too quickly, the twist works, but is not forced enough in the further course and the realism that had been continuous up to that point falls victim to pure action. Nevertheless, with Batman Begins Nolan succeeded in making the Batman film that gives Bruce Wayne the best character study. He also manages to introduce the corrupt and dirty Gotham in its brilliant violence and to make the scruples of this city palatable to us. Without this grandiose establishment of the Batman phenomenon, I would have resented Nolan's subsequent abandonment of realism a lot more.

Joachim Trier's Oslo-trilogy comes to an end in its third decade. In Reprise (2006), Oslo, August 31st (2011) and The Worst Person in the World (2021) all tell different stories that focus primarily on interpersonal relationships and study them with great attention to detail. In the case of this black-humoured romance, the focus is on the inner life of the protagonist Julie, who over the course of four years increasingly asks herself questions of meaning about her own existence and the relationships with her fellow human beings.

While the Norwegian capital is the setting for the events in the trilogy of the same name, Anders Danielsen Lie is the other constant in Trier's unrelated three-parter. In all the films he plays an essential role and is directly involved in the central relationships. Here he is Julie's distinctly older boyfriend, Aksel. An artist who devotes his entire career to a children's comic series with a cat as the title character, giving free rein to his artistic vision. His character is initially established as merely Julie's better half, but transforms as he progresses until he suddenly becomes controversial. If it weren't for Lie's charismatic performance, Aksel would even be despicable and unlikable. However, you never think of him that way because there is so much more slumbering in this person than the abstracted artist. Watching him play with mimicry and emotion breaks your heart and makes it beat faster at other moments. Foremost responsible for this is the chemistry Lie shares with his scene partner Renate Reinsve. Reinsve is the true revelation as the internally torn Julie. Although her decisions often leave you shaking your head, I could completely relate to her in every situation. Because Julie does what most people in ambivalent relationships completely forget to do: She listens to herself. She is a self-determined person who makes decisions only out of her own intention. This either means that you can never really relate to this character and take her to your heart or, as in my case, you find her totally relatable. Perhaps this was also the reason why I always emotionally enjoyed putting myself in Julie's head and followed her every move with great interest.

The grandiose acting would never have such an imposing effect without an equally strong screenplay. Joachim Trier has understood how to write and direct this story as real as possible. This is not only due to insanely authentic dialogue (The break-up scene!), but also to the way he brings certain narrative strands together. What some interpret as poorly structured is, for me, very organically woven together. I realise that the division into chapters in films bothers a lot of people. In The Worst Person in the World, however, they help me to stay fully engaged with the characters and their developments. The chronology of the script makes the film feel very down to earth and not at all pretentious. In the end, The Worst Person in the World is an unassuming romance that, like so many films in this genre, doesn't try to explain relationships with a raised finger, but simply lets them happen - and I credit Joachim Trier for that.

Kenneth Branagh tells us about his childhood in black and white. He shows how he played on the streets of Belfast with the neighborhood children and did childish things. He brings us closer to his relationships with his parents and grandparents who gave him life lessons at a stretch. He shows how a religious conflict upset his family dynamics and complicated relationships with his loved ones.

Belfast starts off cracking. A sequence of around ten minutes reveals the radical clash between Protestants and Catholics in the late 60s and shows how peaceful residents had to hide in their homes and protect each other from death. At first I thought to myself, "Wow, I wouldn't have thought Branagh had the courage to stage it like that right at the beginning." For although he is a gifted performer and his adapted plays certainly have their show value, the predestined Laurence Olivier successor has never wowed me with his directorial work. The biggest problem for me so far has always been that some of Branagh's work seems like vanity projects. Belfast is far from that on paper. Rather, it is a project of Branagh's heart to package the thoroughly interesting events of his childhood into a film. Although I was familiar with the Northern Ireland conflict, I was unaware of the sheer brutality and cold-bloodedness. Accordingly, I was hooked by the surprising opening scene. Instead of delving deeper into the subject matter and portraying motivations rather than actions, Branagh focuses on a generic family drama with a feel-good factor. As sweet as our protagonist Buddy may be, he resembles a small child at very few moments. The dialogues between him and his companions are unrealistically intellectual throughout and have expositional character. As if a ten-year-old had to explain to us how complicated and wonderful life can be. But this should not obscure the fact that the performances in Belfast are excellent across the board. Caitriona Balfe is not only the concerned and approachable mother, but also conveys coldness and stubbornness fantastically. Jamie Dornan has finally managed to establish himself as an endearing character actor. We've known how good Ciaran Hinds and Judi Dench are for decades. Jude Hill also makes a great breakthrough as Buddy.

The great cast really comes across as a family who mean a lot to each other. If their characters were better written and didn't interact with each other in such a distant and cold way, this chemistry would have worked much better. Also, Branagh often makes the wrong choices in moments that work at their best. He rushes from scene to scene and abruptly breaks off organic dialogue. Hardly any narrative thread is consistently told, which is why no real emotions ever emerged for me. If the actors didn't have their talent and if the music didn't work so well at the end, Branagh would have completely failed in the realisation of his heart's project. Belfast is not a bad film, but it has something pretentious in its manner and dares too little in illustrating the conditions of the time.

I would never have described Paul Thomas Anderson's films as light or accessible. The Master is rather overrated in my eyes and only shines through its actors, Phantom Thread almost put me to sleep and even There Will Be Blood is not the untouchable masterpiece everyone says it is. So I was all the more amazed by Anderson's new film Licorice Pizza - a trip back in time to the 70s, in which he delights us with charming wit, playfulness and madness.

This film couldn't be more randomly and yet thoughtfully cast. Appearances by A-listers like Sean Penn, Tom Waits or Benny Safdie seem like cameos, but they all have their raison d'être and importance to the central plot. While I didn't know exactly what Anderson was trying to say with the use of Penn's character, my heart beat a lot faster every time these stars appeared. The real stars, however, are the leads, both of whom, paradoxically, are taking on their first film roles. One is Cooper Hoffman, son of legendary actor Philip Seymour Hoffman, who plays arguably the most adult yet childish 15-year-old in film history. Gary is self-confident and intelligent, but also very naive. This naivety can be frustrating at times, especially when it comes to certain decisions on his part, but is in turn a heartwarming asset due to Hoffman's irresistible charisma. Heartwarming is the keyword when it comes to his chemistry with the much older photo assistant Alana. She is embodied by debutante Alana Haim, who pulls this film together in every scene. Not only her central relationship with Gary, but also the inner conflict that Haim brings us closer to with terrific authenticity are the factors that make Licorice Pizza stand out so much. Moreover, her comedic timing when it comes to one liners and facial expressions is outstanding. It is topped in this regard only by Bradley Cooper's character Jon Peters, who suddenly appears out of nowhere and usurps the screen with his delusions of grandeur. While the limited screen time makes the appearance seem like a cameo, for me it was instead the most brilliant and hilarious performance I've ever seen from Cooper.

It is clear that Paul Thomas Anderson has realised a project of the heart with this film and felt transported back to his own childhood while shooting it. Oherwise Licorice Pizza would not feel so human, never would a time period so distant and unknown to me feel so close, and never would I have recognised myself in the two characters. In terms of originality in its dialogue, the shrewd script had me hooked from minute one. The fact that Anderson cast Alana's family with Haim's real-life family warms my heart. It's been a long time since I left a cinema with such a satisfying feeling. It also makes me forget the few scenes that felt a bit drawn out and unnecessary to me during the film. Even the overlong running time was no longer a problem at all.

Guillermo del Toro's path as a filmmaker in Hollywood is truly unconventional. As a monster-obsessed storyteller, he has had a reputation for decades as an outsider in a chic world, which he always packs into his films. Del Toro is also one of those directors whose signature is recognisable from minute one. It's no different in his new thriller Nightmare Alley, where he follows a mysterious man as he gets caught up in a psychological feud.

As in the Oscar-winning The Shape of Water, Del Toro has a cast where quality is paramount. Bradley Cooper plays the lead role of Stan, a man who doesn't speak or reveal much at first. Only as the film progresses does he open up more and more, and as soon as that happens, my interest in this character increases. We've already had the introverted do-nothing man in enough films, so this kind of protagonist leaves me cold by now. That doesn't change the fact that Cooper embodies this character with all his talent. His usual charisma and likeability come through and especially in the moments where Cooper shows his emotional and desperate side, he shines. Once Cate Blanchett enters the screen from the middle of the film, he has an equal counterpart. Blanchett and her chemistry with Cooper are electrifying and although the character of the enigmatic psychiatrist doesn't come across as too sympathetic, you want to see more of her and the two of them in combination. This role is fulfilled in the first half of the film by David Strathairn as Peter, a mentor who sets Stan on a path that turns his life completely upside down. While the three are the acting highlights, the rest of the A-listers come up short. Rooney Mara plays an important part as the main character's love interest, but she isn't allowed to show much more than the classic wrecking of a relationship that was so passionate to begin with (although it never really was). Willem Dafoe fits the role of the shady carnival director ideally, but has to pack his things after three crazy-scenes we have seen from him many times before. Toni Collette suffers the same fate and Mary Steenburgen's and Richard Jenkins' appearances are more like cameos. Only Ron Perlman I found optimally used as a toxic masculine strongman.

The Del Toro effect occurs naturally in Nightmare Alley. In the first half, he takes us through his staged dream world and takes his sweet time doing so. Although the magic factor comes into play in places, I found the exposition too drawn out and repetitive, although the set and atmosphere are some of the best of the year. The second half focuses exclusively on the protagonist and his downfall. A second half with stirring moments and great acting. However, it is also so tough. I can hardly remember a Del Toro film that treads water for so long and tells such a classic story. While I think it's brave that Del Toro keeps his hands off his monsters this time, the humans are never really interesting. Nightmare Alley brings little that is original to the table and can be happy to be a bit out of the ordinary, at least aesthetically.

Film can be so pure. Film can be so simple. Film can be so human. A24 has once again produced a work that focuses on interpersonal relationships and inner conflicts and is therefore very different from the average mainstream. The story of a man who reconnects with his family and travels across the USA with his young nephew once again puts its stamp on the A24 myth.

From the impulsive and murderous Joker, Joaquin Phoenix slips into the role of radio announcer Johnny, who struggles with himself after some private setbacks. This doesn't change when he contacts his sister again after a long time and pays her a visit. I have rarely seen Phoenix so subtle and introverted. At the same time eloquent and soulful, he serves as the ideal father figure for his nephew, with whom he makes his first experiences in big New York City. Actually, Johnny is a rather complex character, because he almost never says what he thinks. He lets his nephew's own questions slide into nothingness, often even leading to sudden mood swings. In the latter, he engages in a sometimes rather tough duel with his nephew Jesse, played incredibly maturely by young actor Woody Norman. Especially in the second act of the film, the confrontations and negative experiences pile up, where C'mon C'mon too often drifts into the repetitive. Yet it is precisely these dark sides of growing up that are portrayed so compellingly realistically. The chemistry between Phoenix and Norman is ultimately the aspect that carries the film. In combination with Gaby Hoffmann as Jesse's mother Viv, the three form a brilliant trio, although Viv mostly only influences their journey via phone calls and overvoice. Nevertheless, these brilliantly realised dialogues create a relevant presence.

Mike Mills has never been known as a groundbreaking filmmaker. Again, he doesn't tell anything that bristles with originality. Rather, it is the how that sets C'mon C'mon apart. How the outstanding screenplay develops characters and narrative threads that we can empathise with at any given moment. How the camera, in nostalgic black and white, builds an intimate relationship between the audience and the characters and creates great emotions. How improvised interviews with young people catch up with current future expectations and life wisdom of a generation that is still so uncertain and diverse. We feel for these characters. Because we see ourselves in them.

A guy who has only been known as an actor for appearances in the absurd Scary Movie films and got his start in the pornography business provides one of the most brilliant character portrayals of 2021. You can't make it up, but Mr. Indie and A24 darling Sean Baker makes it possible in his new film Red Rocket. Once again, Baker devotes himself to an under-the-radar demographic, and once again he does so with a lot of realism and attention to detail.

The former porn hit Mikey Saber is unemployed and penniless. So he has no choice but to move back in with his estranged wife and her mother in the ghettos of Texas City, who really want nothing more to do with him. But with charm and sex appeal, Mikey manages to settle back in. At the beginning, he also wants to become a better person and is desperately looking for workers. In the end, he finds work with a drug family. Privately, Mikey's life also quickly gets out of hand when he meets an underage girl and immediately spies a way back into his old profession. From what I wrote about the lead actor at the beginning of the review, it sounds as if Simon Rex is playing himself here. That may be partly true, but he does it with so much charisma that I couldn't get enough of this loathsome character. He starts off on a kind of redemption arc, but it quickly becomes clear that Baker probably doesn't believe that such people can change. Because that's exactly what Mikey doesn't do in this film. His actions and statements are despicable, he harms everyone around him, and on top of that he believes he is the greatest hero. All qualities I despise in people. Still, I couldn't get enough of watching Rex ride his bike or run around stark naked with a fake penis to the musical accompaniment of the song "Bye Bye Bye" by NSYNC. The rest of the cast, largely made up of real residents of the area (which is how Baker casts some of his films) are also great, with Suzanna Son in particular giving a great application letter for the future as Mikey's naive love interest.

This may all sound very crazy and possibly off-putting, but in my opinion it is wildly original. In contrast to The Florida Project, Baker here relies on a mixture of a wide variety of genres, some of which are reminiscent of films like Boogie Nights or Uncut Gems. Red Rocket stressed me out, amused me and made me think. The courage to be explicit also pays off in full, as the film is precisely about people from this industry and with this background. Until the last ten minutes, Red Rocket was on course to become my favourite film of the year already. Unfortunately, Baker dwells too long on uninteresting and one-dimensional characters at the end. The ending is then again really strong and caught me off guard with its ambivalence. Definitely the first surprise of 2022!

Celebrated as an actor, George Clooney could never really find his feet in the director's chair. Apart from the historical drama Good Night, and Good Luck, which was made 15 years ago, none of his films were really successful. His most recent sci-fi flick The Midnight Sky was torn to shreds by critics. Now Clooney takes a step back in terms of his "greatness" with The Tender Bar, a small coming-of-age drama about the rise of journalist and author J. R. Moehringer.

The protagonist wrote the book himself. It tells about J. R.'s difficult childhood, in which he and his mother were left behind by his father at an early age. Without having a face in front of him, he henceforth referred to his father only as the "man from the radio" because he had a career as a radio announcer with a distinctive voice. Due to financial difficulties, his mother and he were forced to move back to their childhood home on Long Island, where J. R. eventually grew up. The male constant in his life turned out to be his Uncle Charlie, who set him on a career path early on with slightly radical but always loving advice. Although the film is more intent on following this path, what stayed with me by far the most was the relationship between uncle and nephew. This is especially due to Ben Affleck as Charlie. I have never seen Affleck more sympathetic, empathetic and authentic. This part is tailor-made for him and soon he was no longer this A-list Hollywood star but a normal, helpful uncle who runs a bar on the side. The best scenes of the film occur in this very bar, where J. R. is confronted early on with regulars who give him life lessons and a certain down-to-earthness.

Down-to-earth is probably the ideal word to describe this film. It never breaks chronology or genre and stays dutifully on its course. This may sound straightforward and consistent, but after a certain point it is unfortunately very monotonous and dull. Precisely because Clooney remains so stubbornly true to his line, The Tender Bar is nothing more than a solidly told youth drama in which the script and staging follow the same pattern. Only Affleck's career-best performance, other strong acting (Daniel Ranieri and Tye Sheridan are quite charismatic as the young and older J. R., and Christopher Lloyd always works as the grumpy grandpa) and a nostalgic atmosphere that works every now and then save the film from irrelevance.

Nicolas Cage and a pig looking for truffles in the woods - if you look at this initial situation, you immediately expect the next sleaze film from the formerly celebrated Hollywood star. But instead of being immediately taken by surprise by an impulsive Cage, you get to see the unkempt Rob, who lives a secluded life and shares a special relationship with his pig. When the pig is stolen one day, Rob involuntarily confronts his past and returns to his origins.

Even in his early roles, which earned Cage an Oscar win for Leaving Las Vegas, among others, he played anything but reserved. It's just that, unlike performances of past years, he had his quiet, subdued moments in which he conveyed a wide range of emotions to us like no other. In Pig, Cage returns to that very strength. He is the clear star of the film and doesn't go about any of his scenes in a rushed manner. In fact, he only has two moments in which he erupts emotionally, and he masters them with irresistible control. It's simply wonderful to see that Cage still has such an impressive command of his game despite all his recent failures. With Alex Wolff he is given an equal partner, who as Amir stands in the shadow of the protagonist Rob, but for his part has his own inner conflicts going on. In general, the two share a very authentic and effective chemistry that, despite few exchanges of words, takes over in every sequence. But back to our thought lost Star Cage. Even with the premise of him trying to reclaim his beloved pig, I instantly had an indie version of John Wick in mind. However, Pig could not be more different. Instead, the film is an empathetic character study, handled and accompanied with such sensitivity in a handful of dialogues, that it intrigued me more than films crammed with twists and turns. Cage especially excels when he says it all through eye contact. In the insanely intense restaurant scene, it takes him several minutes to finally open his mouth. It feels like it takes hours for Cage's eyes to meet those of an old acquaintance - but that's exactly what hooked me. Wolff is a perfect complement to this mimic feast. Cage manages to breathe life and passion into a man who at first seems dead inside in an extremely wacky way. Rob, after all, is not broken at all, but has a great fear of loss and disloyalty.

Michael Sarnoski's directorial debut is phenomenal in that he takes what should be an absurd premise and turns it into something fascinating that I had never seen before. Pig is hard to digest for 1 ½ hours and left me speechless. On the one hand, there are the beautiful images that powerfully capture the contrast between nature and industry. On the other, the score, which builds up a lot of tension only to take a 180° turn at the end and hit the tear-jerker without any clichés. But it is especially the journey that Cage takes us on. An atmospheric rollercoaster ride that makes him more human, but probably hurts him more than we as viewers can imagine. Sometimes I would have liked a little more consistency and logic in certain moments. But perhaps it is precisely the complete lack of exposition that makes Pig such a terrific surprise.

I'm really not the type for musicals. Music is one of my favorite elements in films, but if the characters start singing every five minutes, I often get bored very quickly. That's why I had my reservations before Steven Spielberg's new film adaptation West Side Story. I hadn't seen the original 1961 film and therefore went in without any prior knowledge. To what extent that influenced my experience is hard to say. But it wouldn't be a Spielberg film if it had nothing special about it.

Without having seen the original (which won ten Oscars), I know this much from sources that the plot is more or less the same as its predecessor. For example, the film already begins with a dance sequence in which the core plot is established. Two New York gangs, the Jets and the Sharks, manned by Puerto Ricans, are fighting for supremacy in their neighborhood called West Side. Both cannot get along with each other and repeatedly get into brutal brawls until the police intervene, always clearly taking sides with the "locals" Jets. This leads to cultural conflicts, which are further polarized by the decisions of some gang members. The former leader of the Jets, Tony (Ansel Elgort), has actually come to terms with his past and wants to start a new life. His loyalty to the Jets, however, still endures. One evening he meets the young Maria (Rachel Zegler) and they suddenly fall in love. Since Maria is the sister of the Shark leader Bernardo (David Alvarez), this constellation quickly leads to escalation between the two groups. Elgort and Zegler have moments when their chemistry is thoroughly electrifying, especially when they sing their duets. However, Elgort's acting clearly stinks against his female partner, which is why their scenes together usually seem discordant. This also hurts Zegler's performance, because although she does her job sensationally, she never really stands out. Others are responsible for that. For one, Ariana DeBose as Bernardo's girlfriend Anita. She is not only aesthetically a class stronger than all the others, but can shine especially in her mimic and sentimental scenes and tears the screen every time. The highlight for me was Mike Faist as Tony's right-hand man Riff, who delivers a very emotional performance and completely captivated me with his every move and vocal delivery. Rita Moreno (she was Anita in the original) is also worth watching as a mentor to all who don't want to take sides, although she unfortunately comes up a bit short until the end.

In terms of production, Spielberg has once again achieved a stroke of genius. I would even argue that West Side Story was his best directorial effort since Munich. The decision to rely exclusively on Broadway actors who know how to put themselves in the limelight was spot on. In terms of visual violence, too, the film is a real treat. Old New York, for all its deep ditches, had a certain flair, thanks to some great camerawork. I had an unexpectedly good time with West Side Story and, as a non-connoisseur, was thoroughly surprised and tangentially affected by the plot. It's a pity that I was almost out of it after the first thirty minutes because of the drawn-out sequels. But it's a good thing that the film then turns the corner and thrilled me. Besides, the film contains just the right mixture between song and dialogue!

As one of the few, Adam McKay's change of tack from politically incorrect and hilarious wee-wee humor to serious social satire didn't really catch me. The Big Short was simply too intricately written and although the acting performances in Vice were outstanding, I couldn't get on board with the dodgy Republicans. Now, in Don't Look Up, McKay takes aim at an issue that is near and dear to all of us: The climate crisis.

It should come as no surprise that Leonardo DiCaprio plays the lead role. DiCaprio has always been an advocate for climate change, encouraging people to show solidarity at every opportunity, and in 2016 the documentary Before the Flood was released, in which the Oscar winner travels around the world and warns people about the big quake. In Don't Look Up, DiCaprio plays scientist and university professor Randall Mindy, who is initially very excited by his student Kate's discovery of a comet. Soon, however, they both realize that this comet has the potential to wipe out the entire human race. Jennifer Lawrence celebrates her film comeback in the role of Kate. DiCaprio and Lawrence share a very relatable chemistry as the two bearers of bad tidings to the population in which I could empathize well as a kindred spirit. Mindy and Kate stand almost alone in their attempts to convince the world of the threat. Not even the most powerful people in the world around American President Janie Orlean (Meryl Streep), her son Jason (Jonah Hill) or tech entrepreneur Peter Isherwell (Mark Rylance) want to help them. Instead, they weigh the situation according to selfish ends, for example when it comes to triumphing in midterm elections or extracting valuable elements of the comet for financial gain. Media coverage is bent on portraying Mindy and Kate as caricatures and social media hits rather than approaching the matter seriously. Cate Blanchett is barely recognisable as the successful news anchor Brie Elevantee and sinks into the role. All the big names in the cast (Timothee Chalamet and Ariana Grande also turn up) do their jobs superbly, although DiCaprio once again stands out. The scenes where he goes nuts are just as great as those quiet ones towards the end where he gets subtle. In the supporting roles, Rylance is grotesquely fascinating as he embodies this Steve Jobs mime in a completely absurd but hilarious way.

Don't Look Up is very close to reality and didn't give me too good a feeling while watching it, despite all the funny dialogue. McKay is very aware of the situation we are in and does not shy away from denouncing it. The film exposes some of the things that are wrong with our society without hesitation. The dimwitted, self-serving president, reminiscent of Trump. The money-grubbing media mogul. The popularized media. All of which brings us and planet Earth to the current point where issues like Covid and climate change are often swept under the table. Bone-headed reality and I respect McKay for his courage. Cinematically, you can't fault Don't Look Up much anyway - the score, camera and script are all top-notch. Even if the film is a bit of a mess in between, it was a great (and a bit too long) experience. Adam McKay, you got me on the third try!

Me and Marvel - a relationship that never really got off the ground. I could never really do much with most of the films in the so loved universe. If it wasn't for the one superhero called Spider-Man. The superhero I grew up with when the MCU was still in embryonic form. It was Tobey Maguire's films that brought me closer to the superhero genre and, to a certain extent, made me love it. Now, with No Way Home, the third Spider-Man saga around Tom Holland is coming to an end.

The hype surrounding this film was reminiscent of box office hits like the final two Avenger films or James Cameron's Avatar. No trailer had been watched so often for years, rarely had there been so many fan theories and great expectations, and in a situation like now, when cinema is fighting for survival, the fear of failure has never been so great. The latter worry turned out to be unnecessary just a few days after the film's official release. The film opened in cinemas with a brilliant box-office result of 600 million US dollars, which is also the third-best (!) opening of a movie ever. Judging by the initial response, hardly any fans left the cinema disappointed. 9.1 out of 10 points on the largest film database ImdB currently means third place in the ranking of the best films of all time. All these facts clearly show that No Way Home will be the success that fans and cinema have been longing for. But is this overwhelming development justified? It wouldn't be a Marvel film if it didn't have the flaws of its predecessors in the franchise. The CGI feels largely rushed and fight scenes hardly generate any tension. There is an overabundance of characters, some of whom are used far too infrequently. After all, we meet villains from old Spider-Man films such as Alfred Molina as Dr. Otto Octavio or Willem Dafoe (the guy is just brilliant in everything) as Green Goblin again, and both they and the many others could have done more without the lack of backstory. Instead, the focus is on Peter Parker aka Spider-Man (Tom Holland) and his interpersonal relationships, such as with his beloved MJ (Zendaya), his best friend Ned (Jacob Batalon) or his Aunt May (Marisa Tomei). And here, No Way Home manages to do something that very few MCU films have done before. It manages to trigger emotions in me. To empathize with the characters and even make me forget Tom Holland's otherwise stony acting. Admittedly, Holland was by all means the perfect choice for the childlike Spider-Man. In the finale, however, he finally delivers the sample of talent I've been waiting for from him for years.

What I particularly had with No Way Home, though, was fun. Screeching audiences, one liners that often hit the spot and the selection of characters all in all fit so well that no one really seemed interchangeable. Of course, it's debatable whether some of the cameo appearances were really needed. But for the first time in an actual ensemble film by Marvel, there was a cast that was right all around. Although this type of film was never my cup of tea, in hindsight I'm really glad to have been part of this cinematic experience. Frankly, I don't know how many more times I will see a full cinema with ecstatic viewers. So, MCU, I'm happy to forgive your previous mistakes after this film...at least temporarily.

The Sundance Film Festival has always been known for giving a great platform to unassuming films by little-known filmmakers. Many of the festival's winners have gone on to win prestigious awards. CODA could be the next candidate in which this scenario occurs. Not only is it one of the biggest crowd-pleasers of the year, but the coming-of-age story gives the sneezy cast of deaf-mute performers a chance to shine.

It is important to mention that CODA is based on the French comedy Do You Understand the Béliers. Whereas in the original work, however, only hearing actors embody the almost exclusively deaf-mute family members, here it is people with the actual affliction. At the latest since Sound of Metal showed this fascinating group in such a grandiose way, deaf-muteness in films has been on everyone's lips. Director Sian Heder wraps this concept in a film reminiscent of coming-of-age stories like Lady Bird and Juno. The youngest member of the family, Ruby, is the only hearing one in her family and helps her loved ones make ends meet as a translator in a less tolerant society. The family owns a fishing business, into which several obstacles get in the way as the plot unfolds. But that is not the main story. Rather, the film is told through Ruby's eyes and accompanies her as she is torn between staying true to her family or pursuing her dream as a singer. 19-year-old Emilia Jones plays this character as authentically and adolescently as possible, and you buy into her almost impossible situation, but one that seems so remote from our point of view. The best moments in CODA occur when she shares emotional dialogue with her parents and brother. Although they only gesture with sign language, you follow the conversation as if it were the spoken word we are used to. This is thanks to the great performances of Oscar winner Marlee Matlin, Troy Kotsur and Laniel Durant. They seem very bizarre and different at first, but it becomes increasingly clear that they too have normal concerns and needs apart from their deafness. Eugenio Derbez, as Ruby's mentor and singing teacher, is also a constant in the protagonist's life that we wish we had.

Out the back, CODA lives up to all the hype as a crowd pleaser. Some scenes press hard on the tear gland and are carried by great sung musical accompaniment. Before that, however, the film takes almost half the time to finally get going. This is detrimental to the film because the plot lost me a little after the long delay. One should not expect surprises anyway. The film follows a classic pattern, but the predictability does it little harm. Rather, the fact that the family conflict built up in the first half never fully unfolds. Only between brother and sister is there a reckoning, but this is not really pursued. In retrospect, however, this is forgotten, as Heder knows how to rely on elements towards the end that simply appeal to filmgoers. I fell for that too and that is the reason why I enjoyed CODA so much in the end. Viewed as a whole, however, the film has obvious weaknesses, which is why I cannot rank it among the top tier coming-of-age stories.

Lin-Manuel Miranda is one we're not likely to get rid of any time soon. After his successful Broadway musical Hamilton, he has followed up in 2021 alone with the films In the Heights, Encanto and now in the director's chair Tick, Tick... Boom! Although the story could just as easily resemble Miranda's own rise, it's about a brief slice of the life of playwright Jonathan Larsen, who wants to finally hit the big time before his thirtieth birthday.

That Andrew Garfield can also play other roles besides Spiderman outstandingly, we know at the latest since films like The Social Network, Hacksaw Ridge or Silence. As a singing dreamer who works in a diner and can barely afford his small flat in New York, Garfield has explored new spheres of his own ability. He plays from the incorrigible optimist whose enthusiasm no one can touch, to the capitulating failure who just won't make the breakthrough. You don't see Garfield after the opening sequence, in which he narrates Larsen's life to an audience in stand-up comedy fashion. All you see is the persona Jonathan Larsen. A creative mind from the 90s who was ripped from the world shortly after his first successes in his mid-thirties. What the film doesn't really suggest is that Larsen was actually quite a polarising figure. This manifested itself in the fact that in times when AIDS was a big issue in connection with homosexuality, he wrote very political and progressive songs and took a clear stand against any kind of discrimination. He was not interested in delivering big productions, but in communicating relevant issues and confronting the opponents. This is especially because of the environment Larsen found himself in. His best friend Michael (Robin de Jesus) was a homosexual man who also had AIDS and was trying to hold his own in highly respected jobs in a society set against him. This often leads to arguments and emotional scenes between the two. Without the acting talent of the two, this friendship would probably never have come across as authentically and lovingly as I took it in the end. Green is also not inferior to Garfield in terms of accessibility and emotional closeness, he is unforgettable in his few moments. With Vanessa Hudgens and Alexandra Shipp as Jonathan's girlfriend Susan, there are other notable names in the ensemble. Unfortunately, the film doesn't know what to do with Hudgens in particular beyond repeatedly showing off her imposing voice, but otherwise her character is completely interchangeable.

This brings us to a major problem of Tick, Tick...Boom! It's a Garfield show, and since it's a biopic, that's legitimate. But after him and Green there's nothing for a long time and all the other actors are forgotten right after the film. In addition, Miranda missed a great opportunity to show Larsen's political voice more intensively. It's more about how a creative talent realises his dream. The film does a good job of conveying that, but for me it lacked a bit of depth. You only really get that from Garfield and Green, the songs are nice in the moment but then quickly disappear from your mind. It's good that Miranda can rely on his talents.

Recently, the Netflix series The Crown has sparked a new hype around the British royal family and its political and intra-family hierarchies. Now the current generation also knows about Europe's oldest and best-known monarchy. Particular focus was placed on Princess Diana and the suffering she had to endure after her marriage to Prince Charles. The new film Spencer concentrates entirely on the inner life of "Lady Di".

Chilean director Pablo Larrain has already tackled the character study of a visibly broken woman from a glamorous political home (Natalie Portman played the newly widowed Jackie Kennedy) in the 2016 biopic Jackie. Although the plot is set in the 90s, Spencer's subject couldn't be more relevant. The whole hullabaloo surrounding the controversial marriage between Charles and Diana has taken on new relevance through the portrayal in The Crown, bringing Diana's legacy and importance to recent history to young people. All the more fitting, then, that Spencer is all about Diana herself. Larrain accompanies her during the Christmas holidays, where she is expected to keep the royals company during the traditional celebrations. But it is more about Diana's company than about the effect on the outside world, so that the public does not get the wrong idea about the marriage between the designated heir to the throne and his wife. Diana, however, has long since finished with this marriage and from second one resembles a walking corpse who only exists because of her love for her two sons Harry and William. Often Spencer has the elements of a quiet psycho-horror film because witnessing Diana's condition is a punch in the gut. This is partly due to a very human and intimate portrait that keeps us permanently glued to the protagonist. Particularly, however, it is due to Kristen Stewart's sensational performance. She plays down everything from the energetic mother having fun with her sons to the dejected and uncaring ghost. The scenes where Stewart is left to her own devices and virtually gives free rein to her emotions through facial expressions alone are sheer world class. You don't watch two hours of the once written-off Twilight actress, but experience Princess Diana in her full glory.

Spencer is a Stewart show from the start. Without her, this film wouldn't work one bit, simply because all the other characters completely fade into the background. In some of the dialogue it often feels like Stewart is talking to herself because as soon as she opens her mouth I jump to her side and forget about the other characters. This is not to belittle the rest of the actors' performances, they all do their job well (Sally Hawkins plays a small part as Diana's anchor), but the film deliberately aims to get us to engage 100% with the main performance. Larrain has succeeded brilliantly in this in the narrative. Atmospherically, Spencer is a great piece of cinema. The certain score by Jonny Greenwood takes us on a journey back in time to the royal world. A world that no ordinary mortal can imagine. This journey is rounded off with fantastic cinematography and a great setting. If Spencer would become less repetitive at the end and not force the ending, it would probably be on my top films of the year list.

The second Ridley Scott film of this year is here! After his medieval epic The Last Duel flopped brilliantly at the box office, he can expect more in this respect with House of Gucci. Not only is Gucci one of the most famous and prestigious fashion brands, Lady Gaga is also in the lead role. I guess the strong fanbase of the singer will not be asked a second time. In the film, she suddenly finds herself part of the Gucci dynasty and becomes the protagonist of a toxic power struggle.

Yet Gaga is still a relative unknown in Hollywood-speak. She made her big breakthrough in the 2018 music film A Star is Born. Scott, as he did in The Last Duel, has assembled an incomparable star ensemble. Adam Driver, who seems to be establishing himself as the director's new darling, evergreens Al Pacino and Jeremy Irons and an unrecognisable Jared Leto embody the key roles in the Gucci clan. In addition, Salma Hayek emerges as a kind of mentor for Gaga's character. But who is Gaga playing anyway? She is the young and rebellious Patrizia Reggiani. An extroverted perennial who worms her way into the millionaire family with charm and fascination. She is courted by the ambitious Maurizio Gucci, played by Driver, who actually wants to leave the intrigues and sometimes shabby business dealings of his predecessors behind. Once he falls in love with Patrizia and marries her, he is left with no choice but to get involved again. Driver and Gaga share a very passionate chemistry in the first act, which you fully buy into with little dialogue and through pure body language. While Driver plays rather reserved and shy, this quality emanates especially from Gaga, who doesn't hold back in any of her intimate scenes. At least the two characters are able to unfold their own approaches here. But when Al Pacino's character Aldo Gucci, Maurizio's uncle, insists on his nephew's re-entry into the family business, the two lose all closeness to each other. Rather, it is only an extremely manipulative relationship that both actors have to show in a few scenes. All the more Aldo and his son Paolo Gucci, portrayed by Leto, come to the fore. From this point on, the film lapses into a few minutes of megalomania, largely due to Leto's performance. He is exclusively eccentric and desperate and all in all a tragic figure. Whether you find this Super Mario caricature brilliant or miserable is a matter of interpretation.

House of Gucci begins extremely quietly and shows the rise of the lovers in well-done visual sequences. The performances are generally fitting and although the film seems anti-Italian, I love it when Adam Driver cruises through Milan on his Vespa. But as interesting as the pecking order and hierarchy within the Gucci family is, from the second act onwards the film devolves into an overplayed and hyperactive tragedy that, despite the craziness of its scenes and actors, actually manages to be long-winded. Fashion, creativity and the business idea are not a theme at all, which in no way brings us closer to this brand that is so present. In the end we have a family epic (the film lasts 2 ½ hours), with exclusively unsympathetic characters. One more request to Ridley Scott: just let your actors speak English and don't embarrass them with Italian stereotypes with accents.

Who doesn't love it, a feel-good sports drama based on the true story of the rise of two exceptional athletes in their field. Venus and Serena Williams are the American figureheads of tennis and were predestined for this path even before they were born. Their father Richard Williams played a big part in this, putting together a ready-made plan for the two of them early on to make them the players they are today.

The interesting thing about King Richard is that it is not primarily about the two sisters, who are shown bleeding young in the deep origins of both their lives. Rather, it is about the title character Richard, their loving yet strict father, whose parenting methods and sheer passion for his daughters the film brings closer and explores in detail. No one, but really no one, could have played this role better than the Fresh Prince himself, Will Smith. At the latest when I saw the clips of the Williams sisters' childhood in the after credits, it was clear that Smith was transforming into the persona Richard Williams. This is impressive in that you spend the entire film watching not the actor Will Smith, after all one of the most popular celebs of today's generation, but a subtle and empathetic father struggling with his own flaws. Richard may be on fire for his girls and subordinate everything else in his life to them, but he acts selfishly and incomprehensibly in places. Sometimes it seems as if he is only striving to feel validated in what he is doing, rather than doing it for the well-being of his daughters. He also often acts over-sensitively and blocks the aspiring Venus from several years of her later brilliant career. Smith delivers a near-perfect performance, with quite a lot of depth, multi-dimensionality and emotion. In the scenes where Smith only lets his eyes do the talking, I got irresistible goosebumps. Possibly his most impressive career performance, or at least the best for many years. The rest of the cast complement the lead role of Richard with flying colours. They all are confronted with his stubbornness and unpredictability. Jon Bernthal as a slightly hyper coach, once again flourishes in a supporting role. Aunjanue Ellis as Richard's wife Brandi, who thrills in interpersonal scenes, or the young actresses Demi Singleton (Serena) and Saniyya Sidney (Venus), who fill the big shoes of the tennis icons with the finest precociousness.

Besides the brilliant cast, King Richard brings everything a film like this has to deliver. Optimistic music, bright and contrasting images and scenes that exude their own magic. In this respect, I hardly noticed the crass running time of just under 2 ½ hours, especially the tennis sequences at the end were too exciting for that. What the film does not do is revolutionise the genre or be original. For a sports film, it is very standard and does not take any big risks. It's also a bit of a shame that the focus is much more on Venus and I felt like Richard was favouring his older daughter. Also, as so often in these films, the theme of the underdog is clearly a focus. Director Reinaldo Marcus Green is responsible for the feel-good film of the year that we all want and need.

Edgar Wright is "reinventing" himself again: after zombie comedy, coming-of-age romcom and his latest fast-paced action thriller Baby Driver, he tries his hand at the horror genre in his new film Last Night in Soho. As one of the few directors today, Wright is known for his own signature. A signature that is clearly evident in his new work as well, with some spectacular sequences in store. And it all begins with a young woman who wants to realise her dream in the great city of London.

The fact that Wright has secured probably the greatest female rising stars of modern Hollywood for his two leading roles speaks for the British director's outstanding hand. 21-year-old young actress Thomasin McKenzie seems unstoppable since her breakthrough in 2019's Jojo Rabbit. In her first proper leading role of Eloise, McKenzie takes us on a journey we can all empathise with. Big ambitions, escaping the rural pampas for the commercialised big city and then falling short of her own expectations. Eloise has to deal with difficult characters who clearly stand in the way of her goal to conquer the fashion industry. Only when Eloise decides to rent her own room does she really begin to blossom in the metropolis. The reason for this is a continuous dream from the past that Eloise has every time she closes her eyes. The first sequence, when we switch between the present and 1960s London, is true art. Not only are we introduced to Anya Taylor-Joy in her signature role of Sandie, but the several cultural and period details unfold as pure magic. We are then served the best half hour of the 2021 film year. On the one hand, this is due to the fabulous performance of Taylor-Joy, who fully lives up to her reputation as the most talked-about young actress at the moment. She may only have a handful of screen time and few dialogues, but she is irresistible in her charisma. Facial expressions and gestures are enough in Sandie's life to believably convey her difficult situation to us. What these events simultaneously trigger in the parallel world of the protagonist Eloise is another fantastic stylistic device with which Wright electrifies the audience's gaze. Matt Smith is also ideally cast as the playboy and manager Jack in the macho 60s, although he does pale in comparison to the two ladies.

Reading this part now, you probably wonder why Last Night in Soho doesn't come off too euphoric in the rating. The only reason is that the last act is simply stupid and completely derails the thread of the plot. Of course, after one and a half hours of suspense build-up, one expects a finale full of scary moments and shocking twists in a declared horror film. The film does try to create the latter, but unfortunately the twists are so predictable and cheaply chosen that they don't give the failed jumpscares any positive impact. Ergo, the last 25 minutes consist of a permanently screaming Thomasin McKenzie. Thus Wright has erred in his choice of genre and provided one of the most sobering endings of the year. In the end, this disappointment unfortunately outweighs the otherwise brilliant elements of Last Night in Soho, such as nostalgic music choices, atmospheric time travel and the upcoming A-list actresses in top form.

For her debut in the director's chair, Maggie Gyllenhaal, who is originally known as an actress, was awarded the prize for Best Screenplay at the Venice Film Festival. The Lost Daughter tells the story of Leda, a university professor, which doesn't sound too exciting on paper. A middle-aged woman who, during her beach holiday, meets a young mother who seems overwhelmed by her life. As the two grow closer, Leda is caught up in memories of her past.

As one of the most reliable actresses of recent years, you can never really go wrong with Olivia Colman as your leading lady. Still, the question on my mind before seeing the film was whether the otherwise humorous Colman, who most will know as Queen Elizabeth from The Crown, could hold her own in such a dark role. Yes, she can. Once again she shows what she is capable of as an actress. Leda is introduced to us as a not too likeable character. She likes to be alone, doesn't want to give a pregnant woman her chair and serves up the polite hotelier Lyle (Ed Harris) icily. An uncomfortable feeling often comes across in her actions and statements because Leda is exactly the kind of person I personally would never want to have anything to do with. As soon as more is revealed about her and her past, however, the character grew significantly closer to my heart. And that's largely thanks to a fantastic Jessie Buckley in the role of young Leda, who gives us glimpses into the fragile and vulnerable world of a young mother who actually wants to invest her time in something else. It hurts because although she loves her two daughters dearly, she is happiest in their absence. The flashbacks made things clearer to me and I could understand Leda's initial behaviour much better. Colman and Buckley engage in a real gladiatorial duel, which version of this character is now more enthusiastic. In the last act of the film, Colman, who up to then had been rather slightly bizarre, manages to put a new stamp on the character that finally makes her an anti-heroine you want to embrace at any time. Her holiday acquaintance Nina (Dakota Johnson) is indeed the reason why Leda is thrown back into her past, but unfortunately the character is not given enough substance despite all the parallels to the world of the young Leda. She visibly suffers from the situation, but since the focus is so heavily on the protagonist, there is little room for her to shine.

The Lost Daughter starts very moderately and for the first half hour I had no idea what Gyllenhaal was trying to tell me with this story. We see an unsympathetic character going through almost the same thing every day and watching another family on the side. From the moment the flashbacks enter and the older version of Leda builds emotional attachment, the film gains a significant increase in quality. The dialogue takes hold and above all the character study has an effect on you all along the line. Because the film basically tells nothing but about a mother who doesn't really want to be one. Motherhood is not an easy place to be and that may even be the message Gyllenhaal wants to send with The Lost Daughter. Despite a slow start, it definitely succeeds with fabulous actresses and a tangible plot.

Flee is an animated documentary from Denmark that could win the popular Golden Statue in three categories at the Oscars (Best Documentary, Best Animated Feature, Best International Film). Jonas Poher Rasmussen tells the gripping story of his friend Amin, who confides in him for the first time in a personal conversation the truth about his flight from Afghanistan, which he has kept secret all these years.

The protagonist of the film is a true hero. At a young age, he had to leave the country of his birth, Afghanistan, with his family, although he had enjoyed his life there to the fullest until the war began. The disappearance of his father is the first big question mark in the film that does not leave us until the end. The relationships with his family members alone, be it his two sisters, his already elderly mother or especially his big brother, with whom he shares a very special bond, are fascinating. The cohesion that this family exudes in such a crisis situation and the love they have for each other goes very close and it is unimaginable how they must have felt during those times. All the things Amin experiences and witnesses on his journey through dictatorial and corrupt countries are staggering and it is hard to imagine what he had to go through to be where he ends up. Years later, in fact, he is an integrated citizen of Denmark, successful in his profession and living in a happy relationship with his partner. The fact that he has to hide his homosexuality, which we as viewers know about from the beginning, in his homophobic homeland is also an essential theme of this documentary. For although he is always aware of his attraction to men, he perceives it as a disease because of his environment. Even this hurdle in his life Amin was able to overcome in the end. The friendship story between him and Rasmussen, which results in him telling the director his big secret, is also very moving.

In terms of its chronology, Flee is told very simply, but at the same time it is an insanely complex character study. Amin is, as I said, a real fascination, how he managed to save himself as a homosexual refugee from Afghanistan, via Russia to Denmark and build a life there deserves respect and makes one proud of the character despite the anonymity. The second winner of this film is Rasmussen, who through his dedication to his friendship with Amin is able to tell this slightly confused feel-good story and give us something like hope. That the animation style also totally works and makes the narrative no less authentic is another great achievement.

Jane Campion and pianos, they just fit. 12 years after her last feature film, the New Zealander returns to give us The Power of the Dog, a western that triggers Brokeback Mountain vibes in many ways. An adapted story about two brothers who couldn't be more different and who look after their ranch together. When one suddenly marries, all normality is gone from the other brother's life and he is confronted with new people who torpedo his life and turn it completely upside down.

We meet the protagonist Phil, played by a fabulous Benedict Cumberbatch, as a homophobic, cruel and charismatic creep who feels no emotion and exposes those who are different in every situation. Due to the setting, the action takes place in the 1920s, his colleagues naturally welcome this behaviour and celebrate the bully. In this way he also keeps the upper hand over his brother George (Jesse Plemons) and is not in danger of losing his status as boss. George, unlike Phil, is clearly more empathetic, sympathising with his brother's victims but unable to challenge him because of his introversion. Despite being so different, the two share a distorted form of brotherly love that can hardly be explained by objective judgement. George confides in the village's widowed waitress Rose (Kirsten Dunst) and the two develop a love affair. This results in them marrying and Phil now having to deal with a new threat. The often non-direct confrontations between Phil and Rose are absolute highlights of the film. They not only serve as showpieces for the fantastic performances by Cumberbatch and Dunst, but suggest a menacing feeling that just makes your sweat run down. This is especially the case in a scene where Rose tries her hand at the piano (hence the reference at the beginning to Campion's masterpiece The Piano), but is constantly interrupted and visibly unsettled by Phil. Rose takes a whole new direction in her development from then on, which often became too frustrating and repetitive for me. Especially when Rose's son Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee) returns, he virtually replaces his mother as Phil's threat. Indeed, he discovers something about him that pushes Phil to take him under his wing and divert attention from his mother. The final act is almost entirely a study of Phil and Peter's relationship and their various interpretations of masculinity.

Campion makes an aesthetically brilliant comeback with The Power of the Dog. The shots of the Montana mountain landscape (even though the film was shot in New Zealand) sink into you and are harmoniously accompanied by an atmospheric Jonny Greenwood score. What starts out as a rivalry ends up being a character study about a bitter man who carries around secrets and tries to blind them with malice. It is very exciting to watch how the changes in his brother's life affect Phil and where he stands at the end compared to the beginning. In the end, I found it hard to categorise the power of The Power of the Dog. But maybe it doesn't need to. Perhaps acting excellence, brilliant direction and sheer beauty are quite enough. It is certainly a film that will divide opinions.