Gregory Ellwood

Unlike other period tales of hidden queer love, including one that debuted at this same festival a year ago, Dhont isn’t interested in dripping his canvas in tragedy. He’s going to leave you with a glimmer of hope. Actually, more than a glimmer. A wry smile of anticipation that suggests all isn’t lost and love can find a way.

We’re not sure Lucila is a fighter, but she’s a survivor. And over the course of the film, she learns many life lessons in a very short time. So when Diaz finally lets Lucila’s joy or pain cry out, it strikes you. And sticks with you.

There is a place for this, but the inherent ideas are often, for lack of a better word, basic. Overall, it’s simply not clever enough to transcend the genre.

The Javis have a lot to say not only about Spanish history, but also about how emotions can endure and live on through something tangible. Whether it’s a painting, a recorded piece of music, or even a long-lost play, queer or not. They use the omnipresent theme of snow and the poetic spirits often present in Lorca’s work to tie these threads together. A complex puzzle where almost everything settles into place.

While Sachs’ vision is at the center of it all, this moment is also a stark reminder of Rami Malek’s considerable and we mean considerable talents. A gutsy and vulnerable version of the actor that has not graced anyone’s screens in at least a decade.

As Another Day winds down, the weight of throwing almost everything against the wall, hoping it will stick, is a bit too much for the movie to bear. Despite her best efforts and avoiding melodramatic (if not often realistic) rock bottom moments, Herry cannot avoid treading into television movie of the week territory. All while a fiercely committed Exarchopoulos does her best to overcome the shackles of the genre.

Thankfully, Drucker has enough charisma to hold your attention in even the most mundane moments.

This contemporary Japanese drama centers on the relationships between two vaguely thirtysomething women and two middle school-age boys. Two pairings that find a common connection in the most unexpected of circumstances. It’s the context of their attractions and the contradictions Fukada delicately presents that eventually beguile the viewer, even if his restrained aesthetic may test your patience getting there.

Reuniting with a majority of his “Ida” and “Cold War” collaborators, a 1:37 aspect ratio, and cinematographer Lukasz Zal’s masterful black and white compositions, Pawlikowski, whether intentional or not, has crafted a trilogy of films that chronicle the painful reverberations of the Second World War. With “Fatherland,” he’s also holding up a mirror. A reflection on today and, more likely, the near future. How will you treat those complicit in war crimes and humanitarian horrors? How will you grieve a world that is gone? Or will you grieve at all?

We’re not sure there will ever be another “Devil Wears Prada” installment, but be glad this one came along. At worst, to reinforce that shining memory of the original, at best to simply delight you for two hours. Hey, it might even be an improvement on that first flick.