Young Luis (Tielve) decides to take a break from his boyfriend (Berami) and flies from Madrid to Berlin, where he immediately loses himself in clubs and drugs, waking up in a series of strange beds. One of these belongs to lively Ukrainian Viktor (Mandic), who Luis discovers has some sort of connection to a missing Greek boy (Sid) whose sister Elena (Terziyan) and cousin Kostas (Yagoulis) are putting posters all over the city. But Luis really likes Viktor and can't believe he's a kidnapper. Or worse.

The film has a warm, observational tone that holds our interest even when the plot starts to wobble. But there are other problems that continually leave us frustrated, from the elusive and vague story to director Westerwelle's decision to shoot key scenes in darkness and shadows. Clearly he's trying to build suspense, but it leaves us unable to properly see what's happening. And the insipid electronic score doesn't give us many clues.

That said, there are some genuinely suspenseful moments, as well as some wrenching emotion and raw sexuality. And there's also a strong build-up of suspicion and disorientation that fits nicely with Luis' likeable naivete. Tielve plays Luis with open-faced innocence as an impulsive guy looking for new experiences, even as he continually reacts to events in the wrong ways. So since he's kind of asking for trouble, the story's twists and turns never feel very surprising.

All of the cast is natural and realistic, in contrast to the filmmakers' attempts to ratchet up the tension between them. In the end, the movie begins to feel like some sort of cautionary anti-drug movie, as Luis' journey turns into a feverish paranoid nightmare that reveals some deeply troubling endemic bigotry in German society. It's also the kind of movie that will make you reluctant to ever trust the kindness of strangers.

When we meet Nick (Peters), he is washing blood off his hands as he confesses his deep urge to kill people. Moving on, he travels to Berlin and rents a room from Phillip (Stampfli), a photographer who takes him into his life and introduces Nick to his actress friend Lilli (Femme). Nick quickly seduces Lilli, but also spends time cruising for men in the Tiergarten. And as he adjusts to life with close friends, Nick worries that killing Phillip and Lilli won't be as easy as usual.

The film has a quiet, thoughtful, insinuating tone, with naturalistic acting and a nice sense of camaraderie and rivalry between the three central characters. Their physicality, closeness and creeping jealousy is palpable even if we never quite buy the romance between Nick and Lilli. This is mainly because Nick is such an icy character, so his feverish nightmares about his past actions feels somewhat implausible. Which means that there's ultimately no one on-screen we remotely identify with.

There's also a problem of pacing. Each sequence is nicely assembled and strikingly visual, but there's little sense of connection due to the choppy transitions. It doesn't help that Nick's narration is relentlessly gloomy. Iben also seems to be oddly timid about both the violence and the sex, which drains any sense of inner drive or passion from the screen. So even at just 70 minutes, the film feels draggy as we wait for something punchy to happen.

Sure, the sudden flashes of violent are nasty and inexplicable, but there's oddly no sense of danger since Iben never develops the suspense. It also seems awfully easy to dispose of a body in central Berlin in broad daylight, while the half-hearted police investigation feels like something the filmmaker added in later. So we keep waiting for the story to kick up a gear and build some tension, but it instead gets mopier. And for a film that's ostensibly about sex and death, it feels frustratingly simplistic.

Ahlo (Disamoe) was born under a local curse: a twin whose sibling died in the womb. Protected by his mother (Keohavong) from his feisty, traditionalist grandmother (Yindi), Ahlo grows up in the idyllic countryside. When the government decides to build a dam and flood their valley, Ahlo's caring father (Warin) must move the family to a grim wasteland shantytown. There, Ahlo befriends Kia (Kaosainam) and her drunken outcast Uncle Purple (Pongam), and they all migrate together to another town that's holding a huge rocket competition. Ahlo is sure he can win with Purple's help.

It's not all sweetness and light, as the plot encompasses tragedy as well as the fallout of the Vietnam War, with unexploded bombs and mines littering the landscape. But filmmaker Mordaunt only briefly pauses for darker emotions before returning to sun-dappled happiness. In other words, the film feels rather too polished and beautiful for what it is, only hinting at the grim struggles of daily life for a makeshift family without a home.

That said, plot cleverly allows larger themes to emerge without swamping the central story of a young boy trying to get others to see who he really is. We never take Ahlo's curse seriously because he's such a clever, curious kid whose adventures are packed with possibilities. But it takes others a lot longer to come round. Disamoe holds the film's centre beautifully, a charming young actor we can't take our eyes off.

And the performances around him offer nice surprises that challenge our first impressions. Warin's happy dad isn't as strong as we'd like him to be, while Yindi's grandmother turns out to be more utilitarian than harsh. Pongam's Purple is another story altogether, a James Brown devotee who is so lost in the past that he doesn't know where he is. Just as he starts to develop into an intriguing figure in Ahlo's life, he's oddly sidelined for the big finale. But the climax is such a winning sequence that it takes us awhile to wipe the grin from our faces.

Yves (Niney) is only 21 when he begins designing clothes for Christian Dior, and after being fired his partner Pierre (Gallienne) helps him start his own YSL house. Through the 1960s, his distinctive styles combine timeless looks with imaginative touches that make him wildly popular. And as the 1960s slip into the 1970s, he increasingly turns to alcohol and drugs to escape the pressure of expectations. Through it all, Pierre encourages him and manages the company to global success, even as their relationship is strained by various external liaisons.

Of course, the film looks utterly gorgeous, all sleek lines and visceral colours. Dressed in skinny suits and geeky specs, Niney has terrific on-screen presence, even if Yves' diva-like tantrums and drug-addled self-destruction make him rather unlikeable. By contrast, Gallienne's Pierre is a level-headed control-freak patiently protecting Yves from himself.

Pierre is by far the most sympathetic character, which is unsurprising since it's narrated by him in flashback from 2009, just after Yves' death. But everyone else is little more than a colourful burst of sex-appeal, including Le Bon, Smet and De Villepin as his muses Victoire Doutreleau, Loulou de la Falaise and Betty Catroux, and Kinski as close cohort Karl Lagerfeld. Scenes are crowded with celebrity figures rotating in Yves' orbit. But only Pierre knows that he's falling apart.

This side of the film is far more interesting than the colourfully staged parties and immaculately re-created catwalk shows. Every scene looks exquisite, but it's in the glances between these two men that the movie snaps us to attention. Oddly, the script skips the final 30 years of Yves' life, leaving us wondering how he coped with the further demands upon him and, more intriguingly, how these men worked out their life together. It's an odd gap to leave in a biopic, and it leaves us thinking that those years might have been a better movie. Or perhaps a sequel is on the cards.