On this page: THE MAN WHO SOLD HIS SKIN | UNDINE | ZANA

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Mahayni puts his entire body into the role, from his half-naked arrest in Raqqa to his shirtless museum exhibitions. It's a lean, muscled, balletic performance that sharply gets under Sam's skin as he boldly express his feelings and opinions. His emotive connection with Liane's tenacious Abeer adds some strong undercurrents of mingling joy and pain. By contrast, Bellucci infuses a blast of cold-hearted privilege, lecturing Sam on his responsibilities.

This is a fiendishly smart exploration of the state of the world today, from refugee issues to art industry excesses, both revealing how far people go for security and fame. There's also the point that Sam is exploited as an asylum seeker, eating caviar in his five-star hotel room before being sold at an auction. And at the centre, there's the edgy, messy, moving relationship between Sam and Abeer. This gives the film a surge of heart, as does Sam's rediscovery of who he really is, and what that means.

themes, language, violence

30.Mar.21

Beer and Rogowski have terrific chemistry, portraying Undine and Christoph as young people who feel like soulmates, as they're simply unable to resist clinging to each other whenever they're together. Their conversations are infused with a yearning quality that echoes through encounters that repeat and mirror each other. So when Matschenz's almost eerily clinical Johannes turns up later, the contrast between these men is intense. And it flips the story into a journey that's challenging and meaningful on an almost primal level.

Petzold beautifully leads the audience through this unusual story, putting us into Undine's perspective so forcefully that we can feel even her most surprising thoughts. This allows the comical and fantastical elements to take on additional meaning, while stirring a subtle layer of suspense right into the core of the romance. The story's ripples are often heart-stopping, adding unexpected emotions to a narrative that holds us in its grip, refusing to take an expected route.

themes, language, violence

9.Mar.21

As Lume, Matoshi has a superb authenticity, stone-faced and haunted, but full of strongly sympathetic emotions. Her connection with Kabashi's frustrated but kind Ilir is vividly played, with a grounded sense of chemistry between them even as both struggle to cope with the devastation the war brought to their family. The way these two begin to discover themselves is beautifully played, as is the wary warmth between them. And Sahiti provides a continual sharp contrast with her dry wit and controlling ways.

This is a remarkably sensitive exploration of the impact of trauma over many years. Indeed, time is needed to even be able to approach a sense of perspective. And as the events unfold, details emerge from the shadows that dramatically fill in the back-story, expanding to speak to women who are powerlessness to make their own decisions. And while the film is rather repetitive and slow, it's also unsettling and often deeply troubling, with a spark of tenacious hope.

themes, violence, sexuality

1.Apr.21