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The world is coming to an end and does not do so quietly. Amid the chaos, we follow Robinson (Mathieu Amalric) who has just separated from his bourgeois wife Chloé (Karin Viard). While everyone is running, Robinson is searching, desperate to spend another night with the fantasy of his life, the extravagant Laetitia (played by the Dominican model Omahyra Mota). As world, morality and life crumble around him, he lungs himself forward in the unknown to be able to hold her once more.

This is a very curious film, mixing genres like they do not exist in a permanent flirt with the absurd. Even before entry. Consider the title -Last Days of the World- together with the slogan -Finally free!- and you know that you are in for a controversial ride. But where to? What are we to be freed of? The film definitely takes you places: from a chic Biarritz to a mythical Pamplona and from a refugee-filled Toulouse to the nightlife of Taipei. This is a road-movie in its true sense. You never know where they are taking you and what will happen next and with who.

In that moral emptiness provoked by the chaos of the end of the world, the characters discover an egoism they never before had the chance to reveal. This egoism leads them to be pulled along by desire rather than boxing it in for a conjugal peace. The pain and disappointment of separation are softened by the sentiment that nothing matters anymore, as suicides and deaths go by as the first passengers to board a flight. But none the less, rating sexual experience or desire as higher than self-preservation or a developed love is strange. Perhaps the idea originally sounded credible that, if the world ends you would pursue your unfulfilled desires. But would you, honestly, not rather be with the people you love? In real life, the answer would be related to how honest your life and love is. But in the film, most of the characters around Robinson seem to have chosen death or are fleeing in a desperate rush of self-preservation, but we are not encouraged to care about them.

It is Robinson who is our subject of interest. Swimming against the current, near oblivious to the crumbling world around him, he feels free from the conventions which bound him. And then we come to a sublime moment. He is walking with Laetitia, in a deserted post- apocalyptic Paris, when she takes off her clothes. Because she can. He does the same thing and they run through the empty streets happy in their back-to-nature state. And then, for just a few seconds, we see them crossing a busy boulevard with people and cars, as if nothing had changed, as if we are still in the here and now. Was that their imagination of convention shining back at them, or is the whole world-ending actually in his mind?

The film is filled with symbolic imagery to discover, dreamy eroticism and original locations. It is a mysterious road movie through the absurd which is really best watched late at night, when reasoning powers are looser and the adventure of an unpredictable world can welcome you in. A daring piece of cinema. (incitatus.org)

In stark contrast to the tranquility of the little painted houses in a tree-lined suburban housing estate in El Salvador, a violent gang culture permanently kills, maims or has jailed the young of the community. With a rate of 9 murders a day amongst the young, the country is caught in a massive gang feud. The gangs, and the feud, originate from the 1980s run- down south central Los Angeles. The problem could have been contained, considers Poveda, were it not that in 1996, the US government (under Clinton) decided to send 100,000 convicted gang members from US prisons to central America. Combined with a foreign policy of supporting dictatorships and financing civil wars, the scene has been set for human tragedy.

The fearless photographer and documentary-maker Christian Poveda submerges himself into central America a decade later, into the underbelly of society. He managed to get permission from the Salvadorian police and one of the gangs, the "18", to follow them in their lives. Four years later, La Vida Loca sees the light, taking you along the path of violent outcasts of society. And it is very different to what you might imagine.

The documentary takes us from the unfolding of someone's life to their funeral after a shooting. It is an endless spiral of gang violence, with seemingly no point to the gang war whatsoever, other than that of having an enemy to unite them. Joining a gang is not even an alternative employer for the poor, as the gang does not offer any external symbols of success (wealth, privilege, whatever). In fact, the gang does not seem to offer anything at all but the prospect of death, jail or invalidity. Hardly the attractive option, but these youths are already broken by their lives. And change becomes inevitable with the gang tattoos (voluntary or forced) marking their allegiance. Once you are have your face covered in tattoos, you can no longer send your CV anywhere. They can not back down.

The film lets the youths talk for themselves. They talk about their broken pasts, of growing up without the guiding support of a family. They speak of the love they get from the gang. They talk, with a peculiar detachment, of passing from one social service (juvenile detention) to another (jail), exposing an existential loneliness at the impoverished fringe in which they live. The gang might not offer the flash of fast cars, bikinis and swimming pools, but it does offer loyalty, stability and a shared suffering. The love of the gang is a love which fills an emotional void, giving them a sense of belonging amongst their peers. The gang is so much an end in itself that its members do not even fear death for it, but rather they expect it. The gang is not the path to wealth, status or happiness but rather a goal in itself. An end. But their fearlessness does not come from a feeling of superiority, what you might expect, but rather from an all-round stunted emotional development born out of their misery. They are phlegmatic, almost accepting their fate as a given. And hence they can tattoo themselves, as a confirmation of their fate, as whatever should befall them would befall them anyway.

But some do try. Christian Poveda follows a re-insertion program, where ex-gang members try to set up a bakery. We see them, the tattoo-ed ex-bullies, kneading the dough, we know they are serious about doing the right thing, of trying to improve their lives despite expectations. We see them pray, and talk with priests, but it is as if the words just float over their heads. When push comes to shove, who knows what they will do.

As tragic as the lives of the gang members are, as surprising it is to see that there is a normal society outside the walls of their lives. When they get hurt, they find themselves in a capable hospital, with all health services paid for by the state. When they find themselves in court, they are confronted with seemingly capable legal actors. When they are confronted with the police, they seem professional and organized. You might expect the gangsters to be aggressive ego-tripping characters, perhaps even with dubious contacts in the judiciary, but they are not like that at all. At least, they are not presented that way. When they are stopped by the police, they let themselves be searched or taken. When in court, they hear the court's verdicts stoically, accepting their fate as givens. Of course it is that same stoicism which makes them untouchable, even from punishment. Everything is pointless.

Seeing the film today, so shortly after director Christian Poveda was shot dead in El Salvador, makes the film all the more moving. It is a unique chance to meet people you will never meet, and hear words you will never hear spoken. A look into a violent, criminal subculture normally hidden from view. A testament to a culture which so badly needs understanding, to, hopefully, one day rest in the past. (incitatus.org)

The Sao Paulo writer Mathias (Vincent Cassel) and his wife Clarice (Débora Bloch) are at their beach house in the coastal town of Buzios for the summer. They spend their days living a bohemian life with their friends, their three children and the rest of the young rat-pack from the beach. Their beautiful eldest daughter Filipa (Laura Neiva) is coming of age, although sitting on her fathers lap she is slowly but surely discovering her femininity. However the spring time of her youth sees not only the pitfalls of young love, but also a growing rift between her parents, and the threat of a disintegrating home.

A Deriva is a pleasure to watch, despite a simple storyline. It hinges on the relationship between Mathias and his daughter Filipa, as the film's warm focal point of the fragmenting family. Their roles are well worked out in these trying times. Mathias, and his wife Clarise, wisely protect their children from exposure of their marital rifts, but naturally the children - and specifically the eldest- feel the overshadowing conjugal burst.

What is perhaps the most remarkable, is how the same story filmed through the eyes of another culture, would have been so different. There are two elements at play here: a romanticized Brazil and the time frame. By placing the story in Brazil, we are taken into a joyful carefree Latin world of beaches, beautiful people, love and dance. By placing the story in the 1980s, were see a reality as if it was recalled by a much older Filipa looking back. It is a reality without a technology-inspired stress and superficiality, with a seeming authenticity of life orientated around physical people, living in homes filled with curiosity relics, without made-in-China goods and television-mimicking sentiments. It is a vision which justifies a perhaps kinder look at reality.

For everyone who is wondering how French top actor Vincent Cassel found himself in a small Brazilian production – Cassel is a frequent visitor of Bahia, the African-influenced state in the tropical north. He speaks Portuguese fluently, but as all attentive viewers will notice, it is not his (slightly off) accent which puts him in a curious position in the film – his role does not get lines as credible as those which the other characters get. Mathias' character, and hence the film, is saved by Cassel's acting talent. But then the movie was destined to float or sink on Cassel and Laura Neiva's capacity to convey the sensual lightness of living anyway. And that, they pull of masterfully.

Un Prophète :: Jacques Audiard :: France :: 2008 : 2h35

A young man is being admitted into prison. The scars on his body and face betray a violent past. He can barely read and write. He has no friends. Malik (Tahar Rahim) is 19 years old. Out on the concrete courtyard, he is recruited by the ruthless Corsican mafioso César (Niels Arestrup) to kill a rival passing through their prison. Malik is beaten into submission. His life could have ended right there and then. But that is not how it was to be. Malif comes out the corner fighting.

Most of the film is concrete slabs and dirt. There is the constant murmur of the rumours passed around in Arabic and Corsican if it is not in banlieue slang French. And then there is the violence. Nobody gets punished because nobody interferes. Even when inmates get killed there is no indication that they are being investigated. The detainees are all on their own. We do see the state's legal machinery operating in the background with lawyers and judges shifting paper. We see the inmates work in the prison factory sowing clothes. We see the willing bullies being schooled. But the penitentiary staff shine mostly in their absence. Malik knows it is going to be a long 6 years.

He takes what he can get, and tries to make the best of himself. He could have made an excellent career for himself in the army, if life had been different. He has the adaptability, the patience, the dedication, the intelligence and the lack of moral restraint to make it far, in the right framework. If only he had been in an organisation which could contain and direct him, rather than unleash him, as prison did. We see him slowly becoming a man to be reckoned with, creating his own new order. Make no mistake, this young man is taking you along to the bitter end.

Un Prophète is a tough film to watch, but immaculately constructed. I can not claim to have captured the full finesse of the all the criminal dealings, but it does not matter. The audience is thrown into the story as the young Malik is. Thrown in, to live it with him. And live it, you will. It is a masterfully made film with a clever script, an excellent cast and a surprising attention to detail. A rare pearl in the genre, bound to be as rewarded as director Audiard's previous De Battre mon coeur s'est arrêté, which won no less than 8 Césars! (incitatus.org)

Jean-Jacques (Emmanuel Mouret himself) and Ariane (Frédèrique Bel) live together happily in their playful world, till the day Jean-Jacques admits to have met another woman. Although he tries to tell her otherwise, Ariane is convinced that he desires this other woman, Elisabeth. With the impending risk of having their relationship end over this supposed desire, she tells him to give in to temptation to quench his desire. Although not wholeheartedly convinced himself, Jean-Jacques none the less goes out to meet the mysterious Elisabeth. It turns out to be a very eventful evening.

Emmanuel Mouret is rapidly establishing himself as a modern master of comedy, theatrical-style, even if he is still perfecting his art. "Fais-Moi Plaisir" stands clearly in line with his previous comedies of "Changement d'adresse" and "Un baisir s'il vous plait", and hopefully not the last either! It is a pity to ruin the thread of unfolding events which take you from one sketch to another, but perhaps an illustration of a -here Jacques Tati style humour- scene:

When Jean-Jacques arrives at Elisabeth's front door, he takes out a piece of paper on which he had written her doorcode and starts punch it in. And it continues… being long enough to be the international phone number of someone in central India. But the door opens. He steps into the hall and into an elevator. Jean-Jacques quickly notices that there are no buttons. Even before the confusion can settle, he hears a voice bidding him welcome into the elevator, and asking him which floor he would like to go to. He replies: "4". The elevator voice asks him to repeat which floor he would like to go to. He says "Eh, fourth floor". The elevator again says that is does not understand, and asks him to repeat. Jean Jacques says: "I'd like to go to the fourth floor… please" and the doors close…

As Jean-Jacques charms all the beautiful ladies surrounding him, we too are swept along through the romantic dreamy world of wide-eyed starlets in hidden corners till our brutal awakening back to earth: the ending. While in itself unremarkable, it still comes along as floodlights in the night. It is a curiosity to leave a comedy unsettled, but the ending is out of character with the film. A blemish on a creative and humorous achievement… but watch it none the less...

Gianni (Gianni Di Gregorio), who is well into his forties, has no job or income and still lives in his comfortable family home with his ageing mother. She is a capricious but refined woman who requires a lot of attention and even more patience. Gianni offers her those but can barely squeeze a little life of his own in there. When those around him escape from Rome for some fresh countryside air in the mid-summer weekend, he finds himself left behind in the empty city with a motley of elderly ladies.

I suppose many people will amuse themselves wondering if Mr Di Gregorio is playing himself, or at least a little... as the Gianni in the movie is somewhat removed from normal society. He seems to have accepted that he will be taking care of his mother, at the expense of having his own life. This is a rare form of self-sacrifice in our day, and shows, through our own eyes, our expectations of an individual's life. Can you live a full life without a romantic relationship? Can you feel content without being able to provide for yourself (and your family), without perusing some kind of personal development? How far from the ordinary can you be removed and still feel content about your life?

It is not easy. Gianni needs money and yet does not work. Of course if he would work, then who would take care of his mother? Should he be working to be able to pay for a home for her, so that he can start a relationship of his own? Then his mother would be all alone, unhappy and less well taken care of than in the company of her own son. The dilemma of the ageing society laid bare.

When we see the elderly ladies laughing and interacting together, it is almost as if a choice has to be made in society, that either the elderly or the young have to sacrifice themselves for the other. This awkward thought is dispelled later on, at least somewhat, as the characters all find a place for themselves in this unexpected weekend away without leaving. This is a touching and funny film, which should have been released here in May when everyone has one foot at home and the other in a long weekend away. It would have added a nice tie-in with the reality around us.

A young beautiful woman (Michelle Williams) is trapped in an empty marriage tucked away in an ugly apartment block in London. Her pride and joy in her grey existence is her 4-year-old son. One day, as the two of them are at the football match, she seduces a slick journalist Jasper (Ewan McGregor) in the local pub. As fate would have it, they are locked in a lovers embrace, with the football match raging on behind them on TV, when the stadium going up in flames with a series of explosions. Her husband and son are both killed in the terrorist attack, leaving her broken and alone.

If you are now thinking that a film about the aftermath of a major terrorist attack from the director of Brigit Jones' Diary sounds like a recipe for disaster, then you are partly right. But it is not bad for the reason you might think. The film is, for the most part, an emotional roller- coaster - you could be crying your way through most of it. But not because of her grieving for her lost family. The bombs are just the beginning - she still has to endure a full load of unlikely events in the hour to come. She understandably loses it along the way as the story becomes so over-dramatised that it is just ridiculous (especially when you run the story back in your head afterwards).

Towards the end she enters a phase of grief hallucination and reconciliation with life. As the movie is neither funny nor exciting, this should have been the route to take all along. Concentrating on the mourning of the young mother, and perhaps even throwing in some guilt towards her semi-estranged husband. Her husband is just gone with his death. He is not missed nor is there any regret for his disappearance. Even for a semi-estranged husband this sounds a little harsh - she did worry about him, after all, so she must have felt something. It is also curious that they have no family, or friends who drop by to comfort her. A lonely marriage must have pushed them into some kind of a social circle, or a hobby, or at least the occasional phone call with their mothers. Was their life really that lonely.

The movie is clearly intended as a pamphlet against terrorism, by showing the human cost at the level of ordinary people. It also takes the time to "explain" the resilience of London in a voice-over. It is a little desperate to save a movie through nationalism, but can actually be fit in here, although it could have been better prepared, by, for instance, by making her a more integral part of London. This is no masterpiece, nor an entertainment jewel, and can easily be missed altogether. A pity, because it does have some potential.

Through an awkward accident, Camiel (Marcel Hensema) meets Simon (Cees Geel). Camiel is an intelligent, shy, insecure, gay student studying to become a dentist. Simon is close to his opposite: a true Amsterdam mythical hero - down-to-earth, liberal, dry humoured seducer ("Couldn't you just instantly turn into a naked chick?") who owns two cafés and lives in the Dutch paradox - he's in the semi-legal business of running a hash home delivery service. Both are true products of Dutch society, as it is dreamed to be, with their multilingual, easy, matter-of-fact approach to life. But the film is mostly about Simon. Well, about Camiel looking Simon, fascinated.

So what is it about Simon that so fascinates Camiel? To a certain extent, Camiel is an outsider, he is just someone who walks the streets. He is not extraordinary in any sense. Neither his love life, nor his profession can help him up, nor does he play an instrument or have any hidden talent. When he meets Simon, it seems as if Simon has his whole life organised around himself, to be able to live his life fully. He is surrounded by his oddball friends and has a loving family (in Thailand!). And that with a forgiving smile which allows him to boyishly do as he pleases.

The second half of the movie is darker than the first, when the weight on the looming tragedy starts to be felt (Simon's approaching death). The second half of the film is more emotional, building on the characters and relationships of the first half. Notice the remarkable difference in the treatment of the subject with Les Invasions Barbares, of death, friendship, love, sex and society. Perhaps the last is the most remarkable, because somewhere Simon is the society. There is no clash with an outer world which is different to him - because the difference between the individuals is what makes up the society in which he lives. Similarly there is no generational gap either, Simon's children will make something out of their lives as he did with his, nothing fundamental has changed. It is Western society at its (brief?) peak. 

If there is any weakness in the film, then it would have to be Simon's interest in Camiel, the reasons of which could have been more explicit (perhaps his stability, or his intelligence?). None the less, the audience takes on the role of Camiel, and is taken along into Simon's world. A world which is a rare glimpse into the liberal post-modern society which is (was?) The Netherlands. Camiel will not be the only one leaving impressed.

High school teacher Rainer Wenger (played by Jürgen Vogel) is assigned a week long teaching course on autocracy. His students bore at the thought of talking about the Nazi's again and are convinced a fascist rise to power would no longer be possible in contemporary Germany. Rainer looks at the motley group of students before him, and embarks them into a movement, baptised the Wave, which will show them how fascism rises.

Based on the 1967 events in California, of high school teacher Ron Jones' demonstration of how the Nazi's could come to power. This movie, which follows the famous experiment, is set in a contemporary, affluent German town. The story is so well known, that not only do you pretty much know how it will all unfold, you can not help but wonder how come the students do not know the story if it is set in the here and now. And then there is the whole route from class today to the autocratic group - it is all so naive. Would they really not see the parallel between themselves and the Nazi films and anti-Nazi speeches they have been bombarded with throughout their youth? And all of this in a week?

La Vague is like a teenage re-run of a story you already know, with a moral you already know. Even though it runs at close to 2 hours, it does not offer any new insight into fascism, politics or human psychology. The political vision portrayed is simplistic and does not help to understand the challenges faced by those living under autocratic rule today. Or, closer to home, the film does not address the subtitles of the democratic/ authoritarian balance faced by many nations today. Unless, by some unlikely series of coincidences, you have missed out on the whole story and need a (relatively) quick fix, I would miss out on this one.

The quiet Lionel (played by the cool Alex Descas) lives with his grown up daughter Joséphine (newcomer Mati Diop) in a comfortable, albeit somewhat sterile, grey, contemporary apartment in a Parisian suburb. Life has unfortunately taken away Lionel's wife, and left the two-person family in a state of tranquil solitude, where the father and daughter lean on each other in the big wide world. This outside world is there, as their entourage, but they keep it at bay. Lionel knows they can not continue living like that indefinitely, and one day he will have to let his daughter go, to live her own life, but silently he hopes that that day will be far off. When their upstairs neighbour Noé, who has always been there, announces that he will leave, Joséphine gets angry. It is at that moment that she too realises that the world around her can not be forever frozen. It is time to look ahead.

The small family is running on a borrowed time, but happy to be together while they still can. They are compared to Gabrielle, the family friend, who lives in hope and the afore mentioned neighbour Noé, who lives, disorientated, in painful past of his parents' death. Both of them cling to Lionel and Joséphine for their stability, for the calm love they share. As a viewer, you can not help but feel that Lionel "should" be living with Gabrielle and Joséphine with Noé, as that would be a more natural state than a grown-up girl living with her father. But of course, there are no rules to who who should be living with who. Or are there? When Lionel and Joséphine look to their future, what do they see? This in between state, at the end of the close-knit family life and the starting of your own, is the playing field of the film. 35 Rhums, is a very slow movie with a close attention to detail, reminiscent of Claire Denis' Vendredi Soir. We see what is going on, through the actions of the characters, leaving very little to be said. The consequence of such an approach is that you have to slow down the pace, to allow the audience time to take in those details. There lies the risk, and although I was taken in by characters, the "normal" gestures or running of the train through the urban landscape scenes are a little too customary to warrant such an exposure. Whether or not this will bother you is hard to judge, but you will need to be a bit indulgent.

Racially, the movie is quite a curiosity. Lionel is black and his wife was white so their daughter, evidently, is métis. So far all is normal. Joséphine's love interest and upstairs neighbour Noé is white. The family friend Gabrielle looks Caribbean. Still fine. Then we get to see his colleagues at the railways, the SNCF, and they are all black! Is there an SNCF line which hires only staff of African or Caribbean descent? Not very likely. And then there is Joséphine's university: the professor and all the students are black! Not even at the university of Martinique, where most people are black, is it an easy feat to write yourself in for a course where not a single white or other raced student has written himself in. What is the point of this bizarre image? Even if they were part of some community (e.g. Caribbean), then that would make more sense showing it in opposition to another French community (say mainstream or Chinese) rather then an artificial submersion. But they are not part of a subculture (no more than their own individuality) nor are the SNCF colleagues or the students. It is a strange touch which is unrealistic and seemingly without purpose.

Overall 35 Rhums is a carefully crafted film well worth its time, despite its weaknesses. Make sure you are not tired when you go it, to be able to take in the rhythm, as you are taken along the tracks in the Parisian behind-the-scenes. Lionel and Joséphine will linger with you long after the lights are back on.

Edgar (Alex van Warmerdam) is an ageing waiter with a life as empty as the spacious highway restaurant in which he works. His mistress sits at a table hoping to get some attention from him in a last desperate attempt to rescue their sinking relationship. Some guests take advantage Edgar's serving position to humiliate him in a spectacle of absurdity. Edgar is at the bottom, and sees only one way out - to complain to the writer of the story to get better lines or at least a shimmer of happiness in his life.

This is a peculiar piece of film. A character complaining to the writer about the misery in his life is one thing, but the side characters come along as well, and the writer's girlfriend who interferes with their fate as well Nothing good can come out of this. Edgar not only lives his misery but realises that the creator of his fate is pushing him through the absurdity on purpose. When Edgar complains about his submissive suffering, all the writer can do to justify himself is telling Edgar that he must suffer. When Edgar protests, the writer retorts that he knows what he has in store for Edgar, as if there is some higher purpose for Edgar's suffering. But that is bluff. The writer does not know where he is going with his story and merely sends Edgar off on a chase from misery to surreal.. 

The pace of the movie is upbeat is the first half, but when we get a key scene in the thriller aspect of it, the acquisition of a weapon, the movie grinds down to a halt! Edgar walks into a bashed-up curiosities cabinet, asks for the weapon, to which the owner, an old man dressed up as a woman, proceeds to get it down and wrap it up with a painfully slow imprecision. The audience can nail-bitingly complain all they like, but they will have to wait till he is finished for Edgar to get out of there to solve his problems in the last leg of the story. When you submit to the will of the director of the film you too have to sit through the lot, just like Edgar and the other characters.

As the movie does not really go anywhere, as far as the story is concerned, it is tempting to dismiss the entire film, despite its originality. We see the writer, although he is just a character in the film, and can not help but curse his incompetence at creating an incoherent, illogical story. But at the same time, it is that same incompetent writer which put the brilliant dry humoured dialogues into the script which had the audience laughing out loud. Still clearly one of the most original directors in European cinema today, do not miss out on him, but if you have not seen any of his work yet, start with Little Tony or The Northerners, leaving this one for later.

The introverted Petr (Pavel Listka) arrives in a little Czech village to take the job of biology teacher at the local school. As Petr was raised in a teachers' family in Prague, we are led to wonder what he is looking for, or running from, in this secluded corner of the world. Contrary to expectation, he seems to be finding a place for himself. Again, contrary to expectation, it is all a little more perverse than you might expect.

As in director Slama's previous film, Something Like Happiness, the weight of depression looms over the characters. But it is not an unhappiness provoked by external factors (of say a job or poverty) but rather by the passions of the characters themselves. They are pushed in a direction which is not necessarily the "right" direction for them, and at the expense of themselves or others. Ridicule is no obstacle for the drunken suitor of the cow herder Maria, nor is humiliation for the young lover Lada. The characters do not have a self-control over their passions, falling victim to irrational needs which separate the civilized from the brutes. We could been tempted to attribute their lack of self-control to their provinciality, but our guide in this remote world, the educated Petr himself, is no stranger to weakness.

As we watch the story unfold amongst the birds and the bees, making up our minds as to why Petr is in that village and gaining an understanding of the side characters, I can not help but feel that the whole tragedy remains unconvincing. It is the great challenge of literature and cinema to render improbable relationships credible, but when you lift yourself out of the tale to calibrate, the discord becomes apparent. Or maybe we should ask ourselves if pardon should really be the pinnacle of love? A captivating movie with a few rough edges which does not completely win its bet. But you do get a tender insiders view on the loneliness and camaraderie of country life… if you want it.

One lonely night, Ann (Isabelle Huppert) follows Thomas to the house of another woman. She sees them passionately kiss on the doorstep before they go in. Ann is left standing outside, half hidden behind a tree in the front garden in a residential suburb of Paris. It all looks so homely and yet it is not hers. She knows she has to leave Thomas. And she realises it is perhaps time to leave everything. Thomas. Her home. Her career as a concert pianist. Her mother. Just leave.

The tortured character of Ann, from Pascal Quignard's novel, is one who wants to run, to disappear rather than fight and rebuild. As we watch her erase the traces of her Parisian life with Thomas, we wonder who this woman is. She is so selfish, cruel and harsh. We wonder what her relationship with Thomas could have looked like. There is clearly not much left of their love, if they ever shared it, which is perhaps what pushed him to the other woman in the first place. Their own house is cold as if there was never any warmth or love there. By the time we meet her old mother in Brittany, we can suspect that she might just be condemned to unhappiness if she does not take some radical action. But is running the solution?

We never really understand why she needs to erase all traces of her existence. Who does she think she needs to go into hiding for? Surely not for Thomas, I think he got the message when he was dumped. But then who? Her mother? She is no state to phone someone, let alone come searching for her. It can only be from one person - herself. By disappearing from the official radar, she expects to feel liberated. Liberated from a life she had grown into, because of herself, her parents and her brother's death. Freed from the feelings she held, the habits she had and the pressure of others.

But when she discards her old skin and finds a breath-taking little corner of the world in which to retreat, traces of her old life remain. Music still calms her temperament, even if her preference goes out to a sharp estranging piano repertoire. And where first she used to swim madly to rinse herself of her life, once fled, she almost rinses herself out of existence to be reborn. She always had the tools she required to save herself, but they had never really served her. Fundamentally, she is a tragic character, throwing doubt even on her efforts.

There is something of a farce in the whole reinvention process as it is portrayed. As she runs, taking trains, buses and boats through changing landscapes and switching clothes, we find ourselves in an escape presented as a thriller. But we know that is not the case, creating a friction between the tense music and imagery and the reality of the story. This is a weakness which does not do the story justice. With an actress as beautiful and as talented as Isabelle Huppert, she could have carried the movie on images alone. Expect to be somewhat depressed by the whole adventure, but also touched by voyage. For, besides the very first scene, seeing Thomas on that suburban doorstep kissing another, all the rest could have just played in her head. As one big daydream, a fantasy of running, of another life. Far away. It is a beautiful movie, for that, and a depressing one, for that. It is one of those movies which is perhaps best watched alone. But you will need a big screen...

Lulu is 15 years old, living in an idealized French countryside with her parents. Her mother has been depressed and sickly as far back as she can remember, a state which is about to be challenged by a Lulu who slips slowly into young adulthood. The real trigger occurs when Lulu stumbles on an old picture of her mother, where she's radiant, and Lulu realizes something must have happened along the way. Her second thought, being the entrepreneurial type that she is, is it may also be the route to get her back. A two generational first-love tale unfolds with Lulu at the helm.

The script and movie has the marks of a young woman all over it, both in its strengths and in its weaknesses. One of the great strengths of the film, is Lulu's character. Not only are the dialogues well-done, but we also get a credible insight into her thoughts which are often brisk and abrupt. They are also very funny, for a large part because it is credible. Visually, we see her as a tomboy and at other times as a pretty young women. This mild oscillation of character presentation goes perfectly hand in hand with her words. As thoughtfully as the female characters (Lulu, mother, grandmother) are presented, that's how inversely flat the male (love interest) characters are. Since it is somewhat inherent within the project, an Almodovarian -we'll just cut them out- attitude could have been considered. The most obvious example is her father, who gets quite some screen time, but without properly establishing his character. He is endlessly patient towards his depressed wife, but some indication why he loves her so would have helped, even if it was out of a Christian obligation.

Some small details went over the top - the father's sympathetic nod to his wife's old love was just too much. As for Lulu, she could have been a little nicer to her girl-friend to justify their friendship, but even if we brush over these imperfections, you still have a beautiful, funny and captivating tale left. It is rare to see such depth of a young character in cinema. An excellent debut by Ms Tardieu which I highly recommend.

Pierre and Lucie, brother and sister, are in a full sexual development swing with their friends, until one day, Pierre does not come home. The question of the movie is what happened to him. The curiosity of the movie, is how Lucie goes about finding out. We follow her as she uses the only power she has discovered, her body, to try to obtain answers in a micro- cosmos of perversity and sexual adolescent indulgence.

It is unfortunate that the movie suffers from a confusion from start to finish, due partly to the resemblance of the characters, partly to the bizarre nature of the script and partly to the (time-frame) editing. Consequently, the audience loses interest in what could have been an original youthful tale. Lucie's manipulation of others through their desire for her body is taken as her strength, which, even if taken as unfortunate, does not evolve into a more mature version. Character development is perhaps a lot asked for a group of youngsters, but a little more character would have helped. If you venture into the dark hall for this one, make sure its late and you are tired. You will leave with the inspirational originality of the sexual/ amorous melange without being too affected by the overall work. But beware of just being lulled into the realms of your own faraway dreamworld.

Seven candidates show up at some multinational in Madrid, all of them in the last round of a recruitment process. While the city is immersed by anti-globalization protests on the streets down below, the candidates are turned on each other for the selection. A sadistic analysis of the contemporary business world, pushed just that little bit further to earn it the title of a satire.

The cruel game is played out in the confines of the office, with the candidates fending for themselves under the presumed watchful eye of the named, but anonymous, entity which is the corporation. The tension mounts quickly, as the strong characters clash head-on in their perfectly developed manipulative manners after their years in business life. An excellent cast plays clever but tough dialogues in scenes which are a little too close to reality for comfort. A clear message surfaces as the film comes to a close, leaving a sour aftertaste. Not an uplifting movie to watch, but ingeniously crafted. Bare in mind that you may want to lay in the sun after surviving this one.

Adolescent Livia finds herself in the south of France, in the dust, after falling off her horse with an older man, a fireman, leaning over her. As he helps her, she falls in love. Summer is kicking in, it's hot and emotions are flaring up.

Watching Livia ride around town on her horse, seeing the other teenagers passing their time idly and people going about their business is what fills most of this movie. Rest assured that the charm and seeming slow-motion of life in the village is somewhat justified towards the end, but it is a long wait. Ca Brule is like a Haiku stretched out as long as possible, and whether you consider it to have snapped or not will largely depend on your state of mind on going in. Beauty is certainly there, but there are merits to be found for one of the great attributes to the Haiku - it's short(-er).

Raimunda is exiled in a laborers Madrid with her teenage daughter, but still with one foot firmly planted in her provincial past. Times are hard for them, and when both her somewhat ex- communicated mother and her boyfriend die, she is thrust back into the murky depths of her life. Twisted in the Almodovarian way, we are dragged along painfully by a will to survive. By all means an all-womens homage, where the men -if even in the picture- are reduced to being mostly unappealing but obligatory sexual objects, with all the consequences which flow from that. A female reality defined by strong charactered inter-dependence, but without much hope for any romantic love. The combination of light pessimism with a cynical touch, spices this impressive scenario with an excellent cast, leaving us with a harshly colored image of an almost surreal world. Watch, and consider for yourself.

Tearing down a coastal lane, Arthur flies out of the bend only to open his eyes again in hospital. While he was out cold, his unconscious spoke, revealing his hidden self as an emotional Pandora's box. In a dreamy, confused state he battles absurdity to unravel a lingering, youthful trauma.

Visually stunning and cut at video-clip speed, you are in for quite a rush of a film. Oscillating between captivating and horrific, "The Black Box" is really well made. There are countless little examples of beautiful attention to detail scattered around. No doubt because of this attention to detail, the imperfections reveal themselves as well, but they are forgivable. But not all missteps are.

Most importantly, the story-line is not good enough. The film can get away with a somewhat flimsy story for a good hour because of the captivating presentation, but towards the end, it is almost impossible not to be disappointed by the simplistic wrap-up. A real shame, considering the effort which went into this production. Do not hesitate to watch it none the less, as you will be rewarded with plenty an attentive detail and good use of imagery with the unfortunately paranoid José Garcia stuck in the middle.

Stephane comes to Paris to take on a job at a calendar-production company arranged by his mother, which unfortunately turns out to be somewhat more dull than expected. His fantasy life goes haywire in his dreams, he falls in love with the charming Stephanie of across the hall and the two put together make for an awkward, creative and funny Calvin and Hobbes seduction.

The strength of the film lies in the elaborate creativity displayed in the dream-life of Stephane, which is a real pleasure to watch, even if put together amateuristically. The unfortunate side lies in the final scenes where the weaknesses of Stephane get the upper hand rather than his creativity. As a viewer, you would have granted him a little more success than the unconvincing absurd professional breakthrough he got. None the less, the movie is well worth watching, including some very funny side characters, with, notably, an over-the-top Chabat as his sex- obsessed, down-to-earth extroverted colleague. Very original.

Young village butcher's daughter Mélanie fails a piano competition because she is distracted by the rudeness of one of the musician jurors. Having given up on music, she finds herself in Paris many years later, taking on a placement at the juror's husband's law firm, who invites her into his home as a nanny for the holidays. The question is, of course, will she take revenge on the juror, and if so, how?

Old-school drama, presented timelessly by an excellent pair of actresses. There are many beautiful little touches to keep the tension high, ranging from the juror's son's fascination with 'how many seconds can I stay underwater' to the butcher's daughter hacking away at the preparation of dinner. It would be a shame to divulge the countless other little details put into the film as we follow the young, pretty Mélanie in the Juror's household, as it is in the details that lies the fascination. And it is that fascination which has to hold you captive, which it will, despite the simplicity of the script.

Two half brothers, Michael and Bruno, abandoned as children by their hippie mother, struggle to form loving relationships. Michael remained faithful to his childhood first love, one he could never act on out of a mixture of cowardice and fear of abandonment. His half-brother whose past is so outlandish the character has no idea how to deal with himself other than walking into a psychiatric ward. Two brothers are left to their own devices, but neither is really strong enough to bear the weight.

It is mostly Bruno's tale, rather than the virginal innocence and weakness of Michael, that dominate this film. The level of ridicule of Bruno's life exceeds most other characters in other films, but none the less brought to you somewhat convincingly by actor Moritz Bleibtreu, although it is hard not to laugh at the absurdity of the events we are supposed to believe. At some point we reach Volaire's 'Candide'-point, where you just wonder what other proof will be brought on stage to illustrate that life is a slow-moving catastrophe. My favorite, however, did not come from Bruno but from the disastrous life of the first love of his brother Michael. Her first (post-prom) relationship left her after two years to join a satanic sect and ended up mutilating and killing people (!?). The movie is a sequence of such tales leaving the psychologically unstable Bruno under -badly needed- medical care, and Michael finding love with his barren childhood sweetheart, excluding the possibility of an improved next generation.

Since the movie is based on Houellebecqs' book, there is some obligation to take it seriously, further promoted by the ending of the film which adds some textual fast-forward into the rest of the characters lives suggesting it is a true story. The complete absurdity of the 'how can we make it worse' attitude which dominates, makes interpretations equally absurd, but we will hand it over none the less: A society which deviates from the loving nuclear family renders people anchor-less, free floating elements in the winds of their time, ever- processing the wounds left behind from their stagnated psychological development. Whether or not you are willing to sit through the movie for this is up to you, but be reassured that it is technically well made and acted. Quite an accomplishment considering the script.

A few days pass in the lives of very different characters in a small town on the scenic Atlantic coast. The town mayor, a teacher, a scientist, a crook, physiotherapist and their families all see their miserable lives cross paths with the others in almost two hours of tedious film. An unhappy portrait of a town which should know better, as the characters themselves refuse to take hold of their lives to make something of them. The scientist tries to convince the teacher to join his team, but the essential problem is shared by all - an incapacity to face their own lives, to care for those around them and themselves. A dull, badly worked out film which should have remained in the editing room considerably longer than it did. Do not let the enigmatic title seduce you into the darkness, there is not much to see.