This year brought 18 features and seven shorts, all presented with live musical accompaniment.
Schimberg’s film isn’t much of an argument, just a provocative discussion.
The Wild Pear Tree sees Nuri Bilge Ceylan in a kind of self-aware dialogue with himself about the methodologies of his work.
Hopefully the arguments against Capernaum from the more discerning jury members will be strong enough to keep Nadine Labaki’s film from taking the Palme d’Or.
It feels like Lee Chang-dong’s most reflexive comment on the dramatic possibilities of his favored narrative form.
Noé’s relative narrative economy allows for Climax to feel like only a disappointing missed opportunity.
Christophe Honoré’s playful pop instincts are on display throughout Sorry Angel in short, affecting bursts.
One of the festival’s genuine, if lower-key highlights, which lent focus to its literary origins as well as to its filmmakers, was Intruder in the Dust.
This morning, the lineup for the 71st Cannes Film Festival was revealed.
The festival is rich in contemplations of identity, tradition, and more that straddle the line between truth and fiction.
Khalik Allah’s Black Mother is an aesthetic experience that’s at once raw, exalted, and singular.
On December 6, elites and journalists assembled at the Souk Madinat for the opening night of the festival.
Golden Exits, the new film by Alex Ross Perry, a favorite of this festival, is an explosion of the director’s aesthetic.
Andrea Pallaoro’s Hannah attains a discomfiting intimacy in its chilly examination of a woman coming undone.
Matthew Porterfield’s Sollers Point conveys the limitations of freedom within towns like the one at its center.
Writer-director Anne Fontaine bypasses any attempt at faithfulness to her source material.
Think of writer-director Andrey Zvyagintsev’s film as Scenes from a Marriage for the age of social media.
Annemarie Jacir’s Wajib suggests that Palestinian survival depends on acts of self-erasure and self-betrayal.
Andrew Haigh’s film has an urgency for epic things to happen to its main character in the most literal sense.
Films from two of our most prolific auteurs will open and close NYFF this year, but more noteworthy are the eight films in the main slate made my women.
Throughout the festival, audiences were occupied with the distinctions between fiction and reality.