2026 Sydney Film Festival

2026 Sydney Film Festival

If you arrived here after a search, either scroll down thought the days to find the film you were looking for, or search the text for the name of the film.

My notes of all SFF Q&As are just notes - they are not complete transcripts, but they should be representative summaries.

This year I was able to be in Sydney from Thursday to Monday morning in week 1, and Wednesday to Sunday afternoon in week 2, so I am reviewing the 29 feature films and two short films that I was able to see on those days. Among the films that I’m sorry to have missed is Silent Friend (2025, Ildiko Enyedi).

Of the 29 feature films I saw, my top 6 films, in accordance with the rating I gave them, are:

Gentle Monster 9/10

Fatherland 9/10

Minotaur 9/10

The Seoul Guardians 9/10

Queen at Sea 9/10

Dead Man’s Wire 9/10

I have again detected a connecting theme between the films of this year. It is related to the theme I found in 2025: (“The sins of the father…”). 2026 takes that theme a bit further. I’d characterise it as a question: “How can we recover from trauma or disaster, and move on to live a fulfilling life?”

My top 6 films this year are all rated 9/10, and none 10/10. (Usually I only have 5 picks, but this year I couldn’t leave out Dead Man’s Wire). In addition, there are several other 9/10 films reviewed below, and a strong 8/10, Sundays, which is worth a special mention for its unusual subject, among other reasons.

My scoring system is based partly on the fact that all these films have been carefully curated already for quality. I score them in comparison to ALL the films I see - not just the ones in the current Festival. That is why many (but by no means all) score so highly. There is very little dross here!

Thursday 4 June

The Cycle of Love

UK, USA, Sweden, India, 2026, Dir: Orlando von Einsiedel 8/10

Intro by Nashen Moodley: “An epic love story but also a commentary on the cast system and colour.”

Review: First, a few facts as the film reveals them to us in the non-linear timeline of the story. The journey in this film took place in 1977. Most of the people in the film were “the real people.” PK was an “untouchable,” as he found out when he went to school. It was on 17 December 1975 when the Swedish girl, Lotte, stopped for a portrait.

The crucial thing about this film is that it keeps us guessing until the end whether PK and Lotte really got together and whether they (gasp!) might still be together. This is skilfully done, because it requires judicious plotting and editing and clever use of interviews and other raw materials.

The other thing that this film does very well is recreate the 1970s (which is also done in one of my favourite films of the Festival, Dead Man’s Wire (2025, Van Sant). This extends not only to scenes in India, but scenes in London (Portobello Road) and Sweden too.

The other delightful aspect of The Cycle of Love is that it’s all true! Unbelievably. As PK says, “My destination is love… If you do not reach out to others, love cannot flourish. That’s the cycle of love.” A charming and romantic experience.

TheyDream

USA, 2026, Dir: William D Caballero 6/10

Intro by director William Caballero: TheyDream won the NEXT special Grand Jury prize at Sundance. It took five years of production but also a lifetime. The film is about him but also about his father. It's a deeply personal story of love and loss. Caballero directed, produced, wrote, shot, edited and animated the film. It was funded by American Public Media, just before President Trump stopped all that.

Review: In my opinion, and this is the opinion of several others to whom I spoke, this film is superficially virtuosic, but, on reflection, egotistical. It is an incredible mix of live footage animation, stop motion, old cassette recordings and so on. Meticulously crafted, yet initially confusing, the film warms up as the audience eventually gets used to the “all over the place” storytelling method of the director. The director actually told me that someone had put it to him this way: the film gradually teaches the audience how to watch it.

And yet we never see the whole picture. In the family there are references to diabetes, hip dysplasia, hot and violent temper tantrums, and we are introduced to Caballeros’ father making strange commands to his very young son, like “eat pussy!” and asking: “Do you like making love to women?” None of this is explained, as Cabellero seems more interested in creating visions of his family's love for each other, while at the top, there is him as the pinnacle of their achievement. And, I'm afraid, his dog as the greatest love of his life.

I give this film 6 out of 10 for the high quality of the various production elements.

Q&A with William Caballeros:

Q: (SFF): What was the editing/ animation process like?

A: Funding was received in 2021 - a $50,000 grant. That was not enough for 3D printed characters entirely. The death of my grandmother and my dog meant it was a film about grief. I worked with people of diversity on the film. One who did 2D animation, one who did graphic novel style animation.

Q: What kind of legacy do you want for the film?

A: I hope it is an emotional catharsis. I'm 43 years old and I'm at that stage of my life when you lose people. I want to capture their stories. Record them, tell them you love them. I hope you saw something of your family in this film.

Q: How is your mum?

A: She went to Sundance with me! She went on stage with Edward J Olmos.

Q. How can people see the film?

A: It will be shown on PBS in the next year, and then online for free. But maybe not internationally? You can follow me on Instagram at they dream film.

Q: Re catharsis and grief. How did you navigate personal pain and create a good film.

A: I've been doing this for many years. I'm honouring them and bringing them back to life. I sometimes tear up looking at scenes with Gustav my dog. I view it as a blessing that I was there when he died. The beauty of being there in the sad moments.

Q: Has the NYU professor [mentioned in the film as trying to dissuade him from making the film just about his family] seen the film and seen how many people are watching it.?

A: NYU was 18 years ago - that I graduated. She's an Academy Award winning director who made a film about her mother in the Holocaust. But because they are Puerto Rican, I wanted to show my family.

Q: How did John Leguizamo come on board?

A: John Leguizamo came on board four months ago. He wanted to come along for the ride and do what he could to help. He's one of four other executive producers helping with an Oscar campaign.

Footnote: I spoke to the director after the Q&A. That was when he told me that some people have said the film teaches you how to understand it as you go along. He also said he had great collaborators, one of whom built the trailer set and he himself just built the more general stuff and they used some kind of proprietary CAD to help overall animation.

The Mutation

South Korea, 2025, Dir: Shin Su-won 7/10

Intro by Nashen Moodley: A fascinating, different kind of Korean film, which looks at marginalised people in Korea. The director's previous SFF film, Hommage, looked at the history of female filmmakers in Korea (2022).

Director: It's a great pleasure to be back after four years. I said I'd see you again. This movie is about a mixed-heritage Korean who meets So-ra and they go on a journey. This is my 7th feature film. I always work with low low budgets, but today I feel like the richest person in the world.

Review: The Mutation begins with a striking image: a white tiger in an amusement park. No, wait, it’s a man in a white tiger suit! This turns out to be quite significant because our hero, the man in the suit, the “mutant” is a black Korean. He’s not accepted in Korea as a Korean because people have never seen such a thing before. He’s uncomfortable in his own skin.

It’s a promising opening, and the film continues to surprise us, but it is very episodic in style, and I never really settled in.

A very clever friend of mine was talking to the director, who was saying that the film was of course about racism. My friend said no - it was about identity. The director stopped in her tracks and opened her eyes wide and looked very pleased. Yes! That is precisely what the film is about, she said.

There is a surface theme of racism, but it is not racism that worries our hero, Se-oh, but his identity. So-ra is also struggling with issues to do with her sexuality but more her identity and place in society. The two actors have a chemistry and an individual appeal that keeps us interested through the episodic and meaningless journey they seem to be on. Then, towards then end of the film an old friend remarks: “Blood? What's important is that you were born out of love.”

Too right! Despite there being maybe a few too many symbolic gestures as the film winds down, a bungee jump tells us that So-oh has finally got the message. It’s been a good-looking but slow-moving journey.

Friday 5 June

Lost Land

Japan, France, Malaysia, Germany, 2025, Dir: Akio Fujimoto 8/10

Intro by Nashen Moodley and film makers, including director Akio Fujimoto: This film is the first ever Rohingya language feature. We get to know a Rohingya family before they set out on a long journey. The director said his student film was shown at the Sydney Film Festival by Nashen 10 years ago.

Review: When I started watching this film, I wasn't sure whether it was a documentary or a feature film. I was fascinated as to how the director could possibly have documented the scenes of the family fleeing myanmar and beginning their journey to Malaysia. After a short while, I realised that I was watching a feature film.

The film is off and running very quickly with a compelling storyline beautifully told and exquisitely shot. The music is also subtly used so that it is not intrusive, but I was still aware of its beauty. The two child actors are superb and the overarching theme of home being identified by a beautiful spreading mango tree is a captivating image. There are heartbreaking scenes but the film ends on a note of hope. The film also began me thinking about a festival theme. Could it be the kindness of strangers? Or is it my God will provide? My thoughts on this developed further during the festival. Meantime, this is an important film beautifully realised.

Q&A with director Fujimoto-san:

Q (Nashen Moodley): To make a film in a language not your own, with nonprofessional actors is remarkable. How did you find them?

A: I was originally looking for middle-school-aged kids but while casting I found three kids. I don't speak English or Rohingya but the kids had something to give as a gift. I discovered what they were actually saying in the edit!

Q (Nashen): This is the first ever Rohingya language film. What is its significance for Rohingya culture?

A: This film is an attempt to preserve the language and the culture and the history of the Rohingya people.

Q: What is the status of the Rohingya in Malaysia when they get through?

A: Malaysia is not a signatory to refugee conventions. The children are all stateless. They have no education or healthcare.

Q: What motivated you to choose this subject?

A: I've lived and worked in Myanmar for 10 years. My wife is from Myanmar. I've been aware of the plight of Rohingyas for years and wanted to do something for them. In Myanmar, you can't make a film about this because of censorship. I’ve been absorbing this in silence for years and felt guilty.

Q: Do any Rohingyas still live in Myanmar? I thought a lot live in Bangladesh.

A: Every year about 150,000 more go across the border to Bangladesh and about 40,000 people are born into refugee camps every year. Personally, I think the biggest problem is that children can't access education. As you can see with the children, there's a lot of talent there. I'd like to commit to developing talent there.

A (Producer, a Rohingya himself): We have been living in prison-like conditions in Malaysia. We can't move to another village without permission. About 50,000 Rohingyas are still in Malaysia but about 80% live in other countries. This film shows the journey that every Rohingya has made, including mine. It is the reality of our life today. Conditions in the homeland are unliveable.

Q: What influences have you from other directors, possibly Japanese?

A: In general, I studied a lot of documentaries and the ethics that come along with them. I know this is a piece of fiction, but I'm aware of the documentary aspect of it.

Q: Given the Rohingyas were illegal immigrants in the countries they moved to, how did you shoot them and did you use subterfuge?

A: It is very complex to answer. Permits to shoot were easy. The thing that helped make the film was the help I got from the Rohingya community. I can't reveal who those people are, for their own safety.

Producer: Our people have suffered for a long time and did not have a voice. Through this film we wanted to show their plight. Please walk with us the journey - we want to go home. You might have noticed that they were talking about going home. Please use your liberty to promote our liberty. Use your connections to communicate with authorities that can help this happen. Share your experience of the film with others.

No Good Men IN COMPETITION

Germany, France, Norway, Denmark, Afghanistan, 2026, Dir: Shahrbanoo Sadat 7/10

Intro by Nashen Moodley and the leading man (and co-writer), Anwar Hashimi: Nashen described this film as “a personal, political, Afghan, romantic comedy.” Anwar Hashimi, through an interpreter, told us: “I will tell you the message of the register - I want you to watch the film and know that not all men are bad.”

Review: This statement of his turns out to be quite the issue in the film, as I saw it.

This is ostensibly the story of Naru, a female TV camera operator/ reporter in Kabul who refuses to be deterred from her wish to move on from filming “female programs” like cooking and beauty shows, to filming day-to-day political events. And her persistence is admirable. (There are autobiographical elements involving the director of this film). But along the way Naru locks horns with a famous male reporter, whom she eventually impresses on a professional level. It is a rare and striking portrayal of a tenacious woman succeeding in a repressive, patriarchal society. And then the relationship between Naru and Qodrat develops into something deeper and more personal.

The fairly easy target of pigheaded Afghan men (read also Muslim, read also brown men) abusing (or just dismissing) women is well-and-truly in evidence here. But what also emerges in the romantic side of the story is the selfishness of the leading man, Qodrat, played by Anwar Hashimi (who also co-wrote). What is meant to be the ultimate romantic gesture at the end of the film (which is well-made, often very funny, and very enjoyable to watch) turns out to be more evidence – ironically – of his selfishness and lack of care for his wife and family.

So where are the good men?

Second Nature (short film)

Australia, New Zealand, 2025, Dir: Bridget Ikin 7/10

This bio-doc is a bracing contrast to TheyDream. Here is a real homage to a parent, made with equal care and with real love by a daughter. What a pair of women!

Sundays

Spain, France, 2025, Dir: Alauda Ruíz de Azúa 8/10

In a boarding school in the Catalan part of Spain (it was filmed near Bilbao), a choir sing’s Nick Cave’s romantic and inspirational song “Into My Arms.” Immediately, we are plunged into a world far removed from the ones most of us live in.

What I loved about this film was its openness. It takes a fresh look at modern-day religiosity, and it brings no baggage. There are no clichés, no short cuts, no assumptions. Instead, what we have here is a rare, and high- quality exploration of spiritual lives in the modern age.

Ainara is 17 years old and she thinks she’s received a calling from God. Her family is understandably concerned, but as Ainara became more and more convinced that she has been called, her family begins to grasp at straws. What’s more, every family member seems to have their own selfish motives in trying to dissuade her.

The ensemble acting is extraordinary. In particular, Penelope Lopez Arnault, as Aunt Maine, and Miguel Garces, as the father, Inaki, are both excellent. And the Mother Superior, Isabel (Nagore Aranburu) is also stand-out. But the best Is Bianca Soroa, as Ainara. The scene in which she is transfigured as she prays for the confirmation of her calling is terrifically moving and a genuine tour de force.

I began by mentioning the film’s music. It’s skilfully used by composer and arranger David Cerrejon throughout, not always as a balm, but sometimes almost as a reality check: each time we start getting carried away by a heavenly choir or a divine melody, the music abruptly stops. Each time except, crucially, in the final scenes at the grandmother’s funeral, and into the end credits. Here, the music continues, ushering us towards a heavenly conclusion.

I loved this film, but objectively (harshly?) marked it a very strong 8.

The Invite IN COMPETITION

USA, 2026, Dir: Olivia Wilde 5/10

Introduction by Nashen Moodley: “It’s really an absolute blast!”

Review: First, a personal peculiarity: I hate the use of the neologism “invite” for the more proper “invitation.” Did this influence my low score for this film? You bet it did, though I do acknowledge that the word’s usage as a noun dates back to the 17th century.

But there is much more to my overall negative view of this often-funny film. I’m conflicted here, because so many people loved this film. I found it sometimes annoying, sometimes funny, but never really authentic. It seemed to me to be a pale imitation of Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? A few people have called it Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? for today’s audience. But I see it more as Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? on Ozempic.

Having said that, I do need to check out the film’s source: Cesc Gay’s film Sentimental/ The People Upstairs (2020) based on his earlier play.

For me, The Invite is a glib, showy, but ultimately soulless film with two high points: Edward Norton’s soliloquy - he’s always good, and Seth Rogan’s comic timing. Penelope Cruz is always watchable, and here she’s pretty funny. But I must say that I found the film’s ending ridiculous and disappointing. You can’t mend a marriage by playing a duet.

Saturday 6 June

Model

USA, 1980, Dir: Frederick Wiseman 8/10

What a fascinating look at a long-gone era, but one that I remember all too well. It’s the time of the non-automated office, which we see in the opening scenes: paper and files everywhere, photos on wall, elaborate rotary phone systems, portfolios of photographs which had to be taken by professional photographers, shooting rolls of film, scenarios which had to be repeated over and over as there is very little room for manipulation of images after the fact. Those were the days!

If you weren’t at least 5 foot 7 inches, as a woman, you were advised to become an actress. We learn that two to five percent of walk-ins to a model agency will get a job, but half of those won’t last. But when it is done right, it’s very impressive. The Evan-Picone “Well-dressed Leg” campaign (with the multiple-legs sequence) is a tour de force. And everyone seems to love the bubble-dress.

Blink and you’ll miss Andy Warhol and Jerry Hall - though Andy does complain about young, beautiful girls who never wear good clothes. As usual, Wiseman, seemingly effortlessly, gives us an in-depth look at an aspect of humanity, and makes us wiser as a result.

Pressure

UK, France, USA, 2026, Dir: Anthony Maras 7/10

Pressure comes to the screen from its origins as a stage play, written by actor and writer David Haig, and these origins are quite plain in this version. Nevertheless, Pressure manages to sustain the pressure, despite its unlikely (but true) story of the knife-edge weather calculations leading to the selection of 6 June 1944 as the date for the Normandy landings of Operation Overlord in World War 2. The Australian Director, Anthony Maras (Hotel Mumbai, 2018) does competent work here, but must rely on the two central performances (by Andrew Scott as meteorologist Group Captain James Stagg and Brendan Fraser, miscast as Dwight D Eisenhower). While Fraser is the wrong body-type for Eisenhower and has too soft a face to play the wiry and angular General, he does portray a compelling character, constantly worried about making a massive error. Andrew Scott is impeccable (as always) as Stagg, who, though right about the weather, learns a huge lesson from Eisenhower: that you can’t always say “No,” but that sometimes you must say “Yes.”

The film struggles a bit as the invasion approaches, and there are clunky bits about the chain of command that I just didn’t believe, but given the culture clash of British v US sensibilities and approaches, and the ad hoc sharing of power that had to happen in WW2, I was willing to accept a few glitches. Once the weather starts closing in, and then as the invasion approaches and the pressure ratchets up, the film picks up momentum and gets better and better.

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Knife: The Attempted Murder of Salman Rushdie

USA, 2026, Dir: Alex Gibney 5/10

“We need to document this. That was my first thought” says Rushdie’s wife after the knife attack in which he was badly wounded and lost an eye. “Everything is Ok for you,” he responds to her when she asks if it is OK to film him in hospital. Wow! This movie is uncomfortable to watch. Is Rushdie’s wife documenting his attempted assassination and recovery, or is she exploiting it? Is Alex Gibney helping them tell a story or aiding and abetting the exploitation?

Rushdie’s book, Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder, is the source material for this film but the pictures are the meat on its bones. Rushdie says on the film that he wanted to write about the attack as a way of taking charge of it. But can one ever take charge of an attack that has already happened? Rushdie says, “I’m standing up - standing up in the place where I fell down.” I think that’s more to the point. He is resilient, he is using the attack to his own advantage, but the attacker is still in custody and the criminal trial has been delayed. The story is not over yet, and the film is still in need of an ending.

Sunday 7 June

Whistle

Australia, USA, Spain, Japan, 2025, Dir: Christopher Nelius 7/10

Introductory Q&A with Mark Humphries and Director Christopher Nelius:

Q (Mark Humphries): Why a film about whistling?

A (Director): Why not? The world needs whistling. There's a lot of joy in this film.

Q: How did you get onto it?

A: The entire film is an Australian production, but the film is made overseas with only one Australian appearing in it. Once I'd heard of this elite level of whistling, as a musician, I was just really floored by the musicianship.

Q: You made a couple of surfing documentaries. Did this help with a whistling documentary?

A: No! But documentaries are really important in understanding the world. This is not one of those films.

Q: It is the 97th birthday of the State Theatre today...

A: We're so honoured to be showing the film in this theatre. Also, happy birthday to producer Camilla Mazzaferro. The audience joined the director in whistling “Happy Birthday to You” for Camilla.

Review: Inevitably, Whistle will be compared to one of the best documentaries of last year’s SFF, The Golden Spurtle. Whistle follows a similar narrative one to Spurtle, keeping us guessing until the very end about who will win the prizes for whistling. But where Whistle, I think, just edges out Spurtle, is with its characters. I feel like we get to know the whistlers much more deeply than we did the porridge-makers. These whistlers are serious, too, whereas the porridge-makers were (mostly) mock-serious. So this is not only an enjoyable, funny, musical film. It Is also a look at what drives people to try to be the best at something they already love. As Anya, from Spain, puts it: “Whistling is the project of my life - I was born for this.” Likewise, Carole is so invested in making the whistling competition a success, it nearly wipes her out: every year! David is incredible with his work with Alzheimer patients. All the competitors are multi-dimensional and magnetic. We want them all to win. And, at least with this film, they all do.

Leviticus IN COMPETITION

Australia, 2026, Dir: Adrian Chiarella 2/

Intro by Justin Martyniuk, Head of Programs, SFF and Director Adrian Chiarella: Chiarella won with one of his short films at a previous SFF. Chiarella said he has come to the festival since he was a kid. His film has screened at festivals all around the world. He shot the film one year ago. The genre of horror has been shaped by LGBTQI members over the years: for example, Mary Shelley, FW Murnau, James Whale. He owes a debt to his queer elders.

Review: This ambitious horror/ queer romance film managed both not to scare me, and to bore me. And that’s really saying something, since I don’t generally watch horror films (unless they’re classic old ones) because I get too scared.

Undeniably good-looking though this film is, to me it didn’t really know what it was trying to say. The idea initially seems a good one, but to what end do we have the demon also being the lover of each lead character? To me this says that the film is demonising gay love. Surely not! Yet neither of the boys can trust his attraction to the other boy, because it might be the demon version of his lover. They are constantly punished for their love.

Now I know that the film indicates that this state of affairs is caused by the exorcism. But the idea and the images of the demon-lovers remain. It certainly didn’t help the gravity of this section of the film that the exorcist is portrayed by Nicholas Hope, who is currently in high rotation in an Aldi ad on TV. It made me laugh when he appeared.

Still, the film opens very promisingly, and there are some striking set-pieces, but some of the stunts are clunkily done (it might have been scarier only to see the results and not the actual violence), and the music score is sometimes so loud it drowns out the dialogue. Ultimately, boredom set in, I didn’t accept the premise, and I ceased to care about the characters at all.

Going by the gist of the following Q&A, the SFF audience did not agree at all with my assessment of the film.

Q&A with Adrian Chiarella and star, Jo Bird: (After the Q&A there is a horror session at the Hub).

Q (Justin Martyniuk): It's an amazing film. Well done, keep going. There are many “magic” things unseen. Does it exist externally in and of itself?

A (Director): The film asks that question. The film has a metaphor that speaks to them internally.

A (actor Joe Bird): There's paranoia. It's not known if the monster is real or just in his mind.

A (Director): One of the great fears is that no one believes how you're feeling etc.

Q: Do you believe that Australian horror will pave the way for Australian films and abolish the cultural cringe?

A (Producer, Samantha Jennings?): I really believe young Australian people want to see Australian films. The new generations will drive the future of filmmaking. There are so many young creatives.

Q: What was the inspiration behind the film? Were there any aesthetic or inspirational films?

A (Director): I mentioned as a young queer I was drawn to horror films such as The Thing, Nightmare on Elm Street, The Ring, and Akira Kurosawa films.

Q: How did you balance horror with tender moments?

A: Yes, we wanted to honour the love story, but still give the horror its due - moving from stunts to the love story was tricky.

A (Producer): There are amazing horror films coming out, but not always having an emotional connection. This film has a real and tender love story.

Q: About the script: did you want it to have a happy ending?

A: I wanted an ending like Let the Right One In or A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, where love goes on…. I always wanted the characters to return to each other.

Q: What is the biggest lesson you learned wrapping up production?

A: It took so much time planning and preparing technical set pieces. So, we embraced the surprises and let the actors and people working with us show you what they had.

A (Joe Bird): I learned a lot about how others act and how you can riff off other people.

Q: the motif of the goat’s head – it's on a post and in a jigsaw puzzle. What is its significance? Was it biblical?

A: Yes, it was biblical symbolism. The book of Leviticus gave us the image of the scapegoat.

Notebook on Cities and Clothes

West Germany, France, 1989, Dir: Wim Wenders 7/10

I was looking forward to seeing this documentary from the Sartorial: Fashion on Film section of the Festival, as I’ve been a bit of a collector of Yohji Yamamoto fashion over the years, and I’ve recently returned from yet another trip to Tokyo. I was not disappointed. I’m not put off by Wim Wenders’ discursive, oblique style of documentary filmmaking, in fact i enjoy it. And it was a pleasure to become acquainted with Mr Yamamoto, who is a fastidious and creative as I had imagined. He’s also a thinker. He is not afraid of inserting long pauses before he answers a question, and his answers are nearly always worth waiting for. And Wenders is not afraid to wait for those answers.

It is quite the coincidence that both men admire (and have a copy of) August Sanders’ book Men of the 20th Century. Because I was recently reminded of that book when I was reading Harald Jähner’s book Vertigo: The Rise and Fall of Weimar Germany.

Yamamoto comes out with a number of classic comments, such as: “I’ve been making fashion for 15 years now, so I’ve already sung my song,” and “Fashion should be both new and classic,” and “Everything should be asymmetric.” He also replies to Wenders’ question as to what black means to him: “If you mix everything down, it becomes black.”

Wenders not only chats with Yamamoto, but he opines on the qualities of the cities of Paris and Tokyo, and cities in general. At the same time he tries out new video equipment and muses. Over the future of digital technology, and he’s usually pretty prescient about that. He also observes that Yamamoto’s couture company reminded him of a monastery. Right again, Wim!

Monday 8 June

Gentle Monster IN COMPETITION

Austria, Germany, France, 2026, Dir: Marie Kreutzer 9/10

Intro: Justin Martyniuk from SFF & Director Marie Kreutzer: This film is direct from Cannes. Marie Kreutzer put in an appearance, still jet lagged. It was noted that this was the first time any of her films had been shown at the SFF.

Review: I wonder if the filmmakers knew of the sunglasses brand of the same name when they wrote the script for this film?

This was my favourite film of the festival. It’s a tough subject, but director Kreutzer has clearly done her homework. She spoke after the showing in a Q&A, mostly about the research she had done into that tough subject: paedophilia.

The film also fits very neatly into the overall theme I have perceived at this year's festival: how do we recover from trauma and go on to live a rewarding life? That question hangs over all of this film.

It is hard to point out what I admired about this film without giving too much away. The narrative is fractured – time frames shift and there are two main storylines. But all this is handled brilliantly.

A standout for me is the music of the film call on both the score and the pop songs covered by Lea Seydoux singing and playing. She plays a concert pianist who deconstructs songs written by men and presents them with a critical slant. Behind those arrangements is the brilliant French artist Camille, whom I have followed for years. She created the score, which was her second collaboration with Kreutzer after Corsage (2022). I will never be able to listen to Sonny and Cher’s “Groovy Kind of Love” the same way again. This, and the other songs, are very effectively used throughout the film.

The forensic detail in this film is fascinating, admirable and impeccable. It is drawn from research by director Kreutzer, as I mentioned. It's also interesting to compare the tactics of French police with the Australian police. When the police descend on the House shared by Lucy (Lea Seydoux, radiant and devastating) and Philip (Lawrence Rupp, brave and believable), they say: “If you just show us everything, this will be easier and quicker.” But the police are not caricatures here.

One detective, Ella Kuhn, played beautifully by Jella Haas, has her own back story which is almost as powerful and devastating as the storyline of Lucy, Philip and their son Johnny (Malo Blanchet, who must have been very carefully handled). Kuhn’s backstory (or rather, home story) involves her elderly father and his carers. He seems to have dementia and is disinhibited sexually (see also Queen at Sea (2026, Hammer), review following this one). Kuhn must deal with his actions while also investigating (other?) potential sex crimes in her day job.

Another notable aspect of this film is the appearance of Catherine Deneuve, as Lucy's mother. She has a small role, but she is very effective. Just a tiny flicker on her face still says volumes. She must be the best-value actress in France.

The way this film deals with the excuses of the perpetrator very much appealed to me. One excuse after the other is proffered, and each time people must decide whether they can, or will, accept the excuse and believe the perpetrator. The moral stakes are raised each time. When will enough be enough?

A really crucial piece of information is offered by the psychiatrist who is looking after little Johnny: “Pedophiles often operate out of feelings of frustration and powerlessness.” The moment she hears this, Lucy throws up. She cannot cope with this information and everything it says about the relationship she thought she had with the perpetrator. Parallel to this, the stakes are being raised for detective Kuhn who also has to decide when enough is enough.

I found this film, with its two compelling plotlines, and its fabulous music score, fascinating enough to watch again almost immediately. Highly recommended, despite its tough topics.

Wednesday 10 June

Queen at Sea

UK, USA, 2026, Dir: Lance Hammer 9/10

Hot on the heels of Gentle Monster (for me, next morning, first film) comes Queen at Sea, starring Juliette Binoche as another woman with a dilemma concerning a parent (or parents). Here, a great ensemble cast (including Binoche, Tom Courtenay and Anna Calder-Marshall) sets out an almost impossible to solve dilemma involving Courtney and Calder-Marshall as ageing parents, and Binoche as part of the “sandwich generation,” looking after both parents and her teenaged daughter. Courtney and Calder-Marshall shared a best supporting performance award from the Berlinale and the film won the Silver Bear jury prize.

Queen at Sea is written and directed by Lance Hammer, who was assistant art director for the Coen brothers’ film The Man who Wasn't There (2001). He has really pulled something special off here. As with Gentle Monster, the medical and social services aspects of this film have been meticulously researched. The first scene of the film is totally compelling and puts the film's cards all on the table in one go.

An adult daughter (Binoche) walks in on her stepdad (Courtney) having sex with her mother (Calder-Marshall) who has dementia and seems unresponsive. The daughter calls the police, thus setting off a chain of events which cannot be undone.

The power of the social workers who swing into action is absolutely gobsmacking (a recurring theme at this year's festival – see Fjord (2026, Mungiu) and The World of Love (2025, Yoon), but here it is not presented as menacing — we can see their point. Still, what to do? The delicate balance between care, protection, dignity and human autonomy is beautifully presented. The film doesn't provide us with answers, but it certainly gives us a grasp of the issues. And the film certainly doesn't spell out the significance of the title, but I assume it refers to a queen (or matriarch) being all at sea (in a state of confusion). This could refer either to Calder-Marshall's character or to Binoche's, as Binoche has her hands full with not only her parents, but her sexually-nascent (and selfish) daughter.

The film ends with a pertinent question to help us with the dilemmas: “What if we just accept that?” Examine your consciences, people!

Sheep in the Box IN COMPETITION

Japan, 2026, Dir: Hirokazu Kore-eda 7/10

I had high hopes for this film, as I loved the two films I have seen at previous SFFS from this director, Hirokazu Kore-eda: Shoplifters (SFF 2018 ) and Monster (SFF 2024). I admire aspects of this film – the director is superb working with children – but the film lost me in the end.

It is set in the “not-too-distant future.” It is a time when people routinely receive deliveries by drone. A couple live in the suburbs (the town seems to be Ofuna, not too far from Tokyo). The wife, Otone, (Haruka Ayase) seems to be an architect for a real estate development company. It also seems that they lost their young son, Kakaru (Rimu Kuwaki) in some kind of train accident. The funeral causes a company called REbirth to offer them a trial of a robotic version of their son.

The title of the film is explained by a drawing done of a sheep dash but the sheep is in a box so you can't see the sheep. How do you know the sheep is in the box, and what it might look like? This is a reference to chapter 2 of Saint Exupéry's “The Little Prince,” where the narrator-pilot draws several versions of a sheep, all rejected by the Little Prince. He then draws the Prince a box, and tells him the sheep is inside. Problem solved.

The film explores issues surrounding grief, guilt, and the possibility of robots substituting for humans. This really would have been enough for me, but it then veers off into another area, more fantasy than sci-fi, and there it lost me. Nevertheless, the images of this film stay in the mind.

The Native Police (short)

Australia, 2026, Dir: Charles Perrurie Perkins 4/10

Welcome by Alan Murray from the local Aboriginal Land Council.

Intro by Director Charles Perkins: This film comes from the turmoil and debate about identifying as Aboriginal. Perkins is from Mount Isa and Alice Springs. He said “The past lives within us. The figures in this film are based on real figures, and they still have statues to them today… This is a very personal film for me.”

Review: Unfortunately, this film comes across as too melodramatic. There’s not enough time to develop the characters, the acting seems a bit amateurish, and the director seems to love lens flare. With all the talent behind this film, including several members of the Perkins family, it's a shame the result isn't more impressive. However, the film looks pretty good, and the director is young, so will benefit from experience.

Àrru

Norway, Sweden, Finland, 2026, Dir: Elle Sofe Sara 7/10

This is a classic SFF film, if ever there was one. It qualified for the First Nations Award, and it features reindeer. In fact, it is a very assured first feature from director Sara, who paints a vivid picture of yet another vanishing way of life: the Sami people of northern Scandinavia. But it is far from quaint. It confronts very “modern” issues such as climate change, the environmental effect of a mining project, methods of protest, including use of the media, and then a darker subject: sexual assault and pedophilia. Yet again in a film this year, a character must confront the trauma of the past and try to find a way past it to go on living.

I loved the visuals of this film: the vast landscapes, the huge ski-mobiles, the colourful costumes and festivals. I also loved the way that characters might burst into song at any time: the film suddenly turns into Seven Brides for Seven Brothers at one stage when the characters raise a barn, but there’s also hip-hop involved!

The juxtaposition of the modern and the traditional ends up being dramatically involving.

Thursday 11 June

The Seoul Guardians

South Korea, 2026, Dirs: Kim Jong-woo, Kim Shin-wan, Cho Chun-youn 9/10

Intro by Paul Strothers, Head of Documentaries at SFF and Co-director Kim Shin-wan: This film won an audience award at the International Film Festival, Rotterdam. Kim Shin-wan told us that Seoul has achieved remarkable economic and democratic development in the last few decades, but “we will let you experience what happened on ‘DEM9.’” [?]

Review: This was my favourite documentary of the festival. It was so involving and so immediate that it took my breath away. Yet this is a film about a political coup, a court case, the Constitution of South Korea, and the very concept of democracy. This is quite a trick to pull off, to weave those topics into a compelling, indeed thrilling, film.

At the beginning of the film, the narrator asks: “Everyone speaks of democracy, but is it a truly achievable dream?” This film answers the question - at least for the time period it depicts.

The film begins in the Constitutional Court of South Korea, where a judge explains that the question for the court to consider is whether the emergency powers were validly put in place to enable martial law. It is explained that martial law can only be called if a true emergency, such as war, armed conflict, or similar, occurs. There is neither war or armed conflict, so it seems the court has to consider whether the words “or similar” apply in this case.

It is 10:28pm on 3 December, 2024, and the President of South Korea has declared martial law, because he alleges that the North Koreans are plotting with leftists in South Korea to overthrow democracy.

We now move to the area outside the National Assembly of South Korea, where people have assembled and the Lawmakers of the National Assembly are trying to get into the National Assembly so that they can vote to reject martial law. We are told that under the Constitution, if there is a vote of the National Asembly within a certain period of time, a declaration of martial law can be overturned. Indeed, there is a requirement that the President appear before the National Assembly to have his or her declaration confirmed by the assembly.

There are frantic scenes as the lawmakers try to get in to vote. But they are met by the police whom the president has ordered to block their way. The Speaker of the National Assembly has to climb over a wall to get in. An elite helicopter squad – designed for war – begins to circle over the National Assembly, carrying soldiers who are fully armed. The President has ordered that the soldiers confront the Lawmakers and “drag them out.”

The soldiers arrive, ut somehow, the National Assembly begins to fill. This is democracy in action and the cameras of the filmmakers – A TV documentary crew – are in the centre of it all. It is completely hair-raising.

So this is an action film, but it is also a thought piece. For example, a story is told about a novelist who tried to write a novel where the present saves the past and the living saves the dead. But then she realised that it had to be the other way around. Says the narrator: “I suddenly realised what she meant.”

More soldiers arrive and break through the crowd and the barriers they have erected using furniture and partitions. People rush to secure the main Chamber of the National Assembly.These are fairly ordinary people fighting for the very future of democracy and a free vote in their country.

I do not want to reveal what happens next, and what the army and the remaining police decide to do – although of course it is a matter of history. But this film has to be seen to appreciate the sheer power of democracy in action. I will say though, that the film ends with the decision of the constitutional court. And it is exciting! At last, the narrator asks us another pertinent question: Can the present save the future?”

Q&A with Paul Strothers of SFF and Co-director Kin Shin-wan:

Q: When did you decide to get down there and It is film and how was it in the action?

A: It was shocking, but as documentary directors it is our instinct to go there, but it was confusing. But we separated into a team inside and a team outside the Assembly. We shot many different scenes.

Q: The events go for six hours but the film is 72 minutes. Why so short and how did you do the monumental editing task?

A: It was 6 hours, but the intense time was two to three hours. Many places were involved, inside and out. We wanted to make the film very compressed with tension. We needed to help the audience fear events and experience what happened.

Q: In the film, the President didn't have many supporters. Were there any inside?

A: We didn't know at the time how much the people supported the President. There were only the citizens and Lawmakers to lift martial law.

Q: Did the vote to lift martial law happen “just in time”? What if it didn't happen?

A: I can't imagine what would happen. It would get worse. The Lawmakers and citizens came to the National Assembly very quickly. It was a miracle.

Q: Why were the military somewhat passive to the people blocking their way?

A: Many people remember the Gwangju Democratic uprising and it inspired citizens to uphold democracy and dissuaded soldiers from being more aggressive. The soldiers did have an education process that involved history. We share this [historical] memory. The soldiers, however, had to follow orders too.

Q: Were there any political consequences for the soldiers carrying out orders?

A: Soldiers weren't aware. There was education after the event, especially for those in trauma. Aggressive soldiers faced consequences.

Q: There were also problems getting the president into court as well. Do you intend a 2nd documentary?

A: The president denied his wrongdoings and his followers agreed. So it actually caused his followers to become more supportive and intensify the political landscape. After, the polarisation has become worse. The court case is ongoing for the President, and we need to keep an eye out. Democracy is declining worldwide and everyone must be on the lookout to protect it.

Q: Demonstrators had two flags – Korean and US.

A: It is difficult to explain. One group is very pro-USA. They always bring the flag. It is quite complicated!

Parallel Tales IN COMPETITION

France, 2025, Dir: Asghar Farhadi 7/10

Parallel Tales opens with an arresting in sequence: a young man, sleeping in a shelter, then moves towards the Metro where he seems to be flirting with a young woman. But it turns out she’s not what she seems, and he is instrumental in thwarting a pick-pocket.

In a parallel tale, we see three Foley artists at work, including a very beautiful woman, and, separately, a writer who works at home. The writer (Isabelle Huppert) is visited by the woman whose wallet was retrieved by the young man. She’s the writer’s niece, and she has become pregnant via a sperm donor. More things happen to the writer and to the female of the three Foley artists.

Incidental to all this, the writer offers words of social observation, such as: “People are still the same shits they always were. But now they are fed some sort of rationale to justify the shits they are.” And “Do you know how a duck gets into a bottle? Imagination. Pure imagination.”

One of the Foley artists spies on the beautiful woman who is having an affair with a filmmaker and he records them. Meanwhile, the young man has wangled a job with the writer, and he is clearly taking in information from her like a sponge. We later find he has taken more than just what he is hearing.

More seemingly-unconnected scenes ensue, but everything is actually connected by the truth that the life of a creative person is essentially one of spying and using the people one knows as source material. In a way, all these unconnected/ interconnected scenes reminded me of the earlier French film Celine and Julie Go Boating (1974, Rivette). Scenes that you have thought you have understood take on a new meaning as you take on new information, as the film draws to a close. Writers are incorrigible, it seems. The film ends with the young man ingratiating himself with another young woman - who is a writer. It seems innocuous on the surface, but it is chilling. The thieving goes on.

This is definitely a film that would benefit from being seen again. It's mysterious and obscure, yet clever and wise, and it presents worlds within worlds.

The Valley

Australia, 2025, Dir: Ian Darling 6/10

Intro Nashen Moodley and Ian Darling: Nashen: Ian Darling has had two decades of films at the Sydney Film Festival. This is a gentle contemplative film about Kangaroo Valley.

Ian Darling: This is the 7th world premiere of our films (Shark Island Films). It is a contemplative film – a film of duration – meaning it is long. I hope you can take some solace from the film in these turbulent times.

Review: Ian Darling wasn't kidding when he said the film was long. Its run-time is 181 minutes. That’s more than 3 hours! Its length defeated most of the audience, although a few of us die-hards remained. I was particularly interested in the film because I live in a rural area not far from Kangaroo Valley and I thought I would see familiar scenes in this film, which I did. As the film progressed, I started thinking about the documentary filmmaker Frederick Wiseman’s films, and indeed in the later Q&A, Ian Darling did acknowledge a debt to Frederick Wiseman.

The film just presents episodes and interludes one after the other, with no particular narrative structure and aims to give us an overview of a geographic area. In this, the film succeeds and it looks and sounds glorious. There are plenty of quirky characters to keep the audience interested, although a few people I know complained that they did not want to see anymore cows being milked or any more bread being baked. I got myself into a rhythm and let the film flow over me. Though the film did feel long, I had no trouble staying with it to the end.

I was intrigued by the “firies’” (the Rural Fire Brigade) whose fire practices were a bit cavalier for my tastes. They conducted pile burns right underneath trees and later during a festival there were open fires and a burning piano and then fireworks – sparks were flying everywhere!

I would criticise the film for not dealing with the native flora and fauna in more detail – this is an area surrounded by much pristine forest and there is not too much of that left to us. And I thought its treatment of the Aboriginal history of the area was quite perfunctory. Thus the film (like people of the area) is very white and straight and quite old. However, there was a lot of detail in the sound design which I admired, and I was able to hear many familiar native birds in the background of the film.

I also liked the timber man with the Lucas Mill, and I appreciated the acknowledgement of the Church of the Good Shepherd and Father Ronan Kilgannon (whom I know) even if he himself seems to have been left on the cutting-room floor.

All-in-all, a sweet film, ideal for a long, rainy Sunday afternoon punctuated with many cups of tea.

Q&A with Nashen Moodley and Ian Darling and filmmakers, plus Mike the canoeist/ rugby coach:

Q: (Nashen): You said it was a durational film…

A: We shot for 100 days and had an economical amount of 100 feet of footage. We shot each scene with intent. The first cut was 8 hours, the next was 4 with an intermission and we ended up with 3 hours.

Q: It's an amazing movie. Thanks for making an epic. How did you get people to feel comfortable and natural as themselves?

A (Kate Hodges, Co-producer): We benefitted from the time before filming. Sarah Butler (another Co-producer) lives in the community. We tried to talk to as many people as we could. We just spent time with people and were able to let their days unfold.

A (Mike, the canoeist and rugby coach): “Familiarity” Is a good word. And the time frame was great.

Q: You dealt with everyone in the film with such dignity. But what made you make the film?

A: 1. Coming out of COVID we embraced the notion of community and togetherness, which we often take for granted.

2. We took cues from Frederick Wiseman – he puts a border around his stories, and with The Valley it is one of only 12 true valleys in the world – that is it has only one road in and out and a river in the middle.

Q: Did you use AI or drones etc?

A: It is an AI-free film. We could have made it 50 years ago. There was only one mobile phone in the film. But we did use drone shots. Mainly tried to keep them still shots – like patterns. We use Premier, but also cork-boards to edit, swapping cards around. The cinematographer is a young man, Ben Cunningham.

Q: It was beautifully shot. But I'm surprised there weren't more creative people who lived there. Did the very old man pass?

A: Peter Geary died during the film, not long after he was sitting on the bed with a tear in his eye. We wanted to be subtle about this. Just before the priest rang the bell the postmaster found Peter's dog. The clues were that and the bell.

Q: Durational stuff: in film and TV and TikTok, things need to be fast. Josef Gatti's Phenomena in this Festival also requires patience.

A: The film is definitely not part of “Slow TV.” We felt this film deserved time, to transport people into another world. It begins with an artist's portrait of the Valley, and this was our portrait of the Valley too. 3 hours wasn't a magic time but we just came in at 3 hours and 2 minutes. We are interested in films of Wiseman, which are 4 to 6 hours. This film has no narration.

Q: The recording of voices – eg the two gentlemen in the canoe?

A: We had radio mikes on everyone. Eg in the canoe we recorded a normal conversation between Mike and his son. There was lots of recording of the nature around us. (Emma Darling was a sound recordist). We added a lot in the sound mix. But every single bird noise was a bird noise that was there at the time. We had an incredible sound mixer.

A (Mike, the canoeist): I've lived there for 27 years. “It takes a village to raise a child.” This film shows that about Kangaroo Valley. Pete Geary hit me with his car not long before he died. I was OK though. Seeing that footage of him driving with a dirty car windscreen, I can understand why he hit me!

Friday 12 June

Ben’Imana IN COMPETITION

Rwanda, Gabon, France, Norway, Qatar, 2026, Dir: Marie-Clémentine Dusabejambo 7/10

Intro (Paul Strothers, SFF?): An outstanding and striking debut. It picked up the Camera d’Or at Cannes. The director Marie-Clementine Dusabejambo will be back for a Q&A after the film.

Review: This film is perhaps the most emblematic of all of the theme of this year’s Festival that I have identified: how can we confront trauma and move on to live meaningful lives?

In this area of Rwanda, we learn early in the film, the words for yesterday and tomorrow are the same. This means that destiny and history are kind of blurred.

It is Kibeho in 2012, 18 years on from the 1994 Rwanda genocide. The Gacaca court processes are ending. These seem to be community courts where, with limited court procedures and rules, the truth about the violence is rooted out and punishment is dispensed. Some people seek justice, others want to leave the past in the past.

Against this mixed background of justice, forgiveness, retribution and revenge, Veneranda has to face a basic family problem: her teenaged daughter, Tina, is pregnant, throwing her promising academic and professional future into doubt. Veneranda, who we have seen is a respected, wise and valuable member of her community, acts most unreasonably, when her daughter is concerned. She both “accuses” her of being raped, and tells her she brought it on herself. This drama plays out against the continuing Court processes. There is much discussion of truth and forgiveness. “The truth?,” says one witness, “we can’t stand it.” (Where have I heard that before in cinema? 😏 And, says another, “I’m tired of being asked to forgive all the time, as if I carried around a bag of forgiveness.” She then tells a horrific story of rape with rifle butts.

Towards the end of the film, as the Court processes wind up, we find out about the mystery behind Veneranda’s intractability. Pain is intergenerational, and there’s a death in the family, but a baby is also born, and is named “So be it.” Life goes on.

Q&A with director Marie-Clementine Dusabejambo:

Q: Silence is important in the film (the grandmother is silent).

A: Things are better not said – not put into words – they are diluted if named.

Q: The casting process: the actors were both professional and nonprofessional.

A: We researched the film for 10-11 years. My research was to meet survivors of the genocide and those in prison and those in court. And I wanted the women to be present in the meeting room and in the courts. The only professional actress I had was the one who plays Susanna. She connected me with Veneranda and Madeleine.

Q: Have the women in the film seen it?

A: Not yet. This is the first audience after Cannes. It premieres in Kigali at the end of July, I hope. I wrote the script in French and the actors helped me to translate it. They were surprised to find their own experiences were in there.

Q: The film doesn't really show much violence. Was there any push-back?

A: I wanted to understand how people lived with their memories of the genocide and their memories of the aftermath. So I was thinking about all the decisions of the characters – all based on the experiences of those I’d met. It had to have a feeling of a home ground of community. But also the process of understanding what had happened.

Q: The film looked amazing. The costumes! Why did the old lady wear the same dress for nine months?

A: I didn't want the costumes to overshadow their bodies. If you can wear one dress for nine months – a woman can carry a baby for nine months.

Q: Belgium was the colonial power and gave IDs to them and the white powers must answer for this etc etc etc!

A: I didn't get the question.

Q: I'm so sorry!

A: Thank you.

Q: Intergenerational experiences – how the different generations experience healing. Could you speak about that?

A: When I suffered through the subject, I always questioned my intentions. I was concerned to have the right language to express or explain the process. And I always had the intention to express it properly. Each generation has its own battles. Each one will have to find their own language to explain and express that.

Q: Though we had ID cards, now we say we're all Rwandans and my kids will have a better future. We can't judge the past based on our own present and our own feelings.

A: This is a love letter to the future generations to say this has happened and we dealt with it with the tools we had.

Q: You set it in 2012. Why that time? People have moved on?

A: 2012 was the year when the Gacaca court processes ended. It was also an artistic decision. I wanted Tina to be 18 years old. Friction between generations. Also, time is an instrument of judgement. In the present, you have to imagine the future.

Q: Thanks for introducing this idea of what happened in 1994. I will show this film to the future generation so that we can all forgive each other.

The World of Love

South Korea, 2025, Dir: Yoon Ga-eun 8/10

Intro (Nashen Moodley and Director Yoon Ga-eun):

Nashen: This film is by a talented young director – it’s her third film and it said to be the best Korean film of the year. Tender, funny, even given the subject of abuse.

Director Yoon Ga-eun (overcome by emotion!): Thank you for being here. I appreciate the opportunity given to me by the SFF. This film took me almost 6 years to make.

Review: If Ben’Imana perfectly exemplified my theme of this year’s Festival, the very next film after it, The World of Love (2025, Yoon), proved to be yet another perfect reflection of that theme. If you read the following Q&A, you will see that the director confirms this: she “wanted to touch on not the traumatic past, but on what happens afterwards.”

Joo-in is a very demonstrative teenager, to the point of being quite annoying. Most of her friends and classmate seem to be boisterous, too, and they are a bit wearing. Joo-in’s Mum drinks too much and obviously has problems. Joo-in’s brother has chronic excema. Joo-in’s father mysteriously lives in a remote country setting and doesn’t reply to Joo-in’s letters, it seems. Then there is Noori, a little child who has unexplained bruising, and Mido, who has a pending court appearance.

All of this is brought to a head when a classmate of Joo-in’s begins a petition to object to a child molester’s imminent release from prison.

This ingeniously-plotted film is very character driven as well. It’s observational in its intent, as we seem to accompany the writer-director on a journey to understand the complex motivations and reactions of people who have either suffered trauma or have to live with its ramifications.

As in both Queen at Sea (2026, Hammer) and Fjord (2026, Mungiu), the authorities are hopeless at getting to the bottom of the problem, but at least their intervention starts the ball rolling for Joo-in to confront her demons. A thoughtful film, though, if I’m being harsh, I thought the senior school kids seemed a bit older than they should be.

Q&A (Nashen Moodley and director Yoon Ga-eun):

Q (Nashen): One of the many remarkable films things about this film is that you combine devastating moments with humour and drama. How did you harmonise those in the writing and direction?

A: I wanted to touch on not the traumatic past, but what happens afterwards. So, after the focus on the recovery, I dove into the real events as well and I wanted to look at real moments of happiness and otherwise in real life.

Q: How did you find this vibrant character of Joo-in.

A: The main character was inspired by all my friends that I wanted to get along with. Some were friends that went through similar traumas. Not just sexual assault but also survivors of other traumas that I've read about. Through the film I show that Joo-in doesn't represent all survivors, but a certain type of survivor. Joo-in was a first-time actor. I cast her because she was full of life and energetic and had actually done Tai Kwan Do for a long time!

Q: Yours was my favourite film at the Sydney Film Festival. Do you have a personal vendetta against apples?

A: While writing the film at the start we wanted to make the apple something that related to a past trauma. While editing, we decided not to put the apple in the trauma and leave instead a blank about the trauma, so the audience could decide. Everyone has to move on from the trauma and deal with it in real life, so we will never know.

Q: What were you thinking when you were writing the dialogue? What was your thought process?

A: It was the hardest part. Since I'm older, it is harder for me to see how the other kids talk, so I continually watch a lot of [dialogues?]. All the actors are actually in their early to mid 20s. We also discovered a great deal through rehearsals.

Q: What is the thought process behind the male figures? Weak fathers, but strong brothers?

A: I wanted to talk about whether if the offender of Joo-in was her uncle, how would the father act? The emotions related to the family are very complex and my research showed this as well. I thought the father would be crumbling and not able to see his daughter – which is why he was away. The mother has to keep the family together and the little brother who has witnessed everything and grown up and he isn't very strong but he has seen all this sadness. And he is able to do something good for his sister. Through the brother I wanted to show how, being young, he can't be responsible, and misses out on a lot of things.

Q: Please talk more about the younger brother's magic show. Is it how he deals with sorrow? You make things disappear and you get applause?

A: Two things: 1. The little brother wanted to be loved In the family and the boy had unconsciously thought if he did something wonderful he might get more attention from the family.

2: His unconscious believes things could disappear and he could make it happen and sadness would disappear. The magic failed because the boy will grow up to realise that he needs to be responsible and he couldn't make it disappear.

Q. When the mother and Joo-in go through the car wash, was it routine that they went through it for trauma?

A: It wasn't the first or second time going through the car wash. Joo-in needed a safe place to let her emotions out. It would not always be the car wash, but it might be somewhere else, but perhaps less often in the future.

Dead Man’s Wire

USA, 2025, Gus Van Sant 9/10

I love a 1970s movie! This one begins with Deodata and a black DJ with a soulful, Barry White voice. All the tones of the film are brown, green and yellow and there’s lots of smoking. Then there’s harp music! (Danny Elfman is responsible for the music score and keeps coming up with really apt pop hits - such as I’ve Seen All Good People by Yes (with the lyric “is captured, for the queen to use). Dead Man’s Wire is set in 1977 and based on a true story - delicious!

Even better, Al Pacino appears - with a southern accent - in a nod to Dog Day Afternoon (1977, Lumet). There’s another nod to that film in, if my memory serves, the use of black and white stills from time to time.

The story involves a kidnapping and siege, but the kidnapper must be the clumsiest one ever. He breaks off a key in the ignition of his car (!) and he drops a phone. We have a “girl reporter,” Linda Page, played energetically by Myha’la) who has not been given a chance to report on the “hard news” (recalling another film from this year’s Festival, No Good Men (2026, Shahrbanoo Sadat).

The film features a fantastic and eclectic cast. I’ve already mentioned Al Pacino. The protagonist-kidnapper, Tony Kiritsis, is played by Bill Skarsgård, the DJ Fred Temple is played by Colman Domingo, the kidnap victim, Richard Hall, is played by Australian Dacre Montgomery, and an unrecognisable Cary Elwes (whose brother Cassian produced the film) plays Mike Grable, a sardonic Indianapolis police detective and hostage who keeps observing that everything is a “shit-show.”

This is a virtuosic, kinetic film that speeds by in a flurry of action (and occasionally, inaction) but has a lot to say about a lot of things – media, and the dissatisfaction of the “little guy” just trying to make a buck in a world where the “system” is “rigged” against him, all of which are even more pertinent today. I particularly liked Richard Hall’s statement after the amazing result in a lawsuit, when he asserts that “Meridian Mortgage upholds the values of Indiana society, even if the verdict does not.”

The film ends with fascinating footage of the real events (I think that happened in Dog Day too. I must watch that film again). It also illustrates how accurate the recreated scenes are, which reminds you of what a principled and scrupulous director Gus Van Sant is. All in all, Dead Man’s Wire is suspenseful and intriguing, but also funny and poignant and a rollicking great ride.

Saturday 13 June

Fatherland IN COMPETITION

Poland, Germany, Italy, France, 2026, Dir: Pavel Pawlikowski 9/10

This austere, literate and ultimately devastating film made my top 6 films this year. This is not surprising given the director is an Oxford scholar of literature and philosophy. The choice to shoot in black and white tells us that the film is sharply focused and serious in intent. It might also be a reflection f the director’s background in documentary films. Many of us thought that it might win the Sydney Film Prize, but I was sceptical because I didn’t see the “audacity” or “cutting edge” in it that are criteria of the prize. I was right.

That is not to diminish in my way the quality of this film. It is intellectually and emotionally rich and satisfying. The final image is transcendent. It is one of those films that leave you wanting just to stay seated in the theatre for half an hour, thinking.

But having said that, I don’t want to leave the Impression that it is purely cerebral. It is also political, physical, emotional, lyrical and kinetic. And the performances are really top-class: The central character is Thomas Mann, played impeccably by Hanns Zischler. And, as his long-suffering daughter Erika, we have the incomparable Sandra Hüller, who also appeared in this year’s Festival as the titular character in Rose (2026, Schlesinger). These two stand out from an excellent cast to bring immense emotional power to the story.

In another co-incidence, I had not long finished reading Harald Jähner’s book Vertigo: The Rise and Fall of Weimar Germany (already mentioned in my review of Wim Wenders’ Notebook on Cities and Clothes). So I was primed to enjoy the depiction of 1949 Germany – and Jähner has a new book out (2022) dealing with this era: Aftermath: Life in the Fallout of the Third Reich. It’s on my wish-list.

Apart from anything else, this film looks so good: it is delicious to watch, and wonderful to think about afterwards. See it!

Minotaur IN COMPETITION

France, Germany, Latvia, 2026, Dir: Andrey Zvyagintsev 9/10

Intro by Jason di Rosso: this film is direct from Cannes, where it won the Grand Prix.

Review: It is not really surprising that this film won the Sydney Film Prize for “audacious, cutting edge and courageous” cinema. The director has a well-publicised feud with Putin over his objections to the invasion of Ukraine, and has made a film which exposes the corruption and perfidy of Putin’s regime as it has seeped into Russian corporations and (in particular) Moscow society.

As the Q&A made clear, the film is a kind of remake of Claude Chabrol’s The Unfaithful Wife (1969). As I watched the film, I thought, “I’ve seen this before.” And I had. But it is an ingenious remake, weaving various members of wealthy Muscovites living wasteful, selfish, meaningless lives into the tale of suspicion and infidelity. They are so rich that they are divorced from reality: “Have you ever cleaned your own house?” One character asks. This is a beautifully rendered but utterly damning portrait of that society.

From the very first shot, which is crystal clear, sharply focused, and held for a long time, we feel we are in the hands of a masterful filmmaker. The film is bookended by another long-held, lyrical shot, allowing time for reflection and questioning.

The film is suspenseful, as was Chabrol’s, as we follow the trail of the private investigator, which leads to a fateful confrontation, and then the ham-fisted attempts of the main character, the cuckolded husband, Gleb, to cover up his transgression. He is played by Dmitriy Mazurov (putting his career at risk, as the Q&A reveals). The film also resembles Scorsese’s Goodfellas (1990) and Henry Hill’s frantic attempt to juggle family events and his narcotics distribution business during the course of one chaotic day. There’s another fairly obscure British film called The Upturned Glass (1947, Huntington) that it also resembles. In that film, starring James Mason, a murder is covered up in a similar way to Gleb in Minotaur. I wonder if Chabrol had seen it.

Th Ukrainian War intrudes on Gleb’s life as he is forced to select 14 employees to send to the front. He gets around it in an ingenious but disgraceful way. We cannot feel a shred of pity for this man who seems to be heading towards his doom. But is he?

I enjoyed this film from beginning to end, and left the theatre chilled to the bone.

Q&A (Jason di Rosso and Director Andrey Zvyagintsev: This is an adaptation of Claude Chabrol‘s The Unfaithful Wife. How did you adapt it?

A: I wanted to do a remake, even in 2018, of Chabrol, but then we didn’t have the rights and it kept getting put back. In a way I’m happy with the delay, and I finally got the rights in 2022, which was a turning point for what was happening in Russia. If we had made it in 2018, it would’ve been a totally different film. And though Chabrol’s actual films office scenes are quite empty, I needed something happening in the offices.

Q (Rosso): You were ill during Covid and in a coma for 14 days in a German hospital. What was the impact on you as a filmmaker?

A: There were many reasons why I didn’t make a film for nine years. Three years were trying to understand how to live in France. I also learned how to get funding from French producers – a long process. And obviously nine years is a journey. But as soon as I got on the film set it was like getting into a saddle on a horse – everything came back to me.

I also want to share an experience. Be careful getting to and from a film première. I have just had an unexpected accident.

Q (Rosso): The lead male was the only actor in the cast living in Russia at the time. What about the risks to him?

A: At first I was more worried for Dmitriy Mazurov. But there were other actors. The blonde girl telling jokes is also from Moscow. I was obliged to share the script with all the actors. Dmitriy had to understand the risks to his career by being the main character. Even if you like a post that says, “no war,” there are repercussions even to that.

Q (Audience): I adored the film. This is the most sophisticated direction in the Sydney Film Festival. Was it storyboarded? And you edited. Please talk about that.

A: I myself am a director of art-house films and I don’t understand how a director can’t be involved in the editing. As to the storyboard? It’s not a storyboard per se. We sit at a table and discuss where a character would stand, sit etc.

Q: The social commentary was never heavy-handed. Was that a conscious choice?

A: My understanding when a director hits someone over the head, a director wants to make a statement: “good guy, bad guy.” I wanted you to decide who is good and who is bad. I want you to come up come to an objective thought process.

Q: In your film Leviathan, a man is trying desperately to serve his manager and family and he gets crushed by the State. Here the State saves him. Is that fair?

A: What’s the question? [Lots of discussion with the translator in Russian]. We could discuss this for a long time but Gleb, the main character, had to try to save his business. He would use all means possible to do this.

The Samurai and the Prisoner

Japan, 2026, Dir: Kiyoshi Kurosawa 8/10

This intricately-plotted samurai film is part historical drama, part costume spectacle and part detective story and murder mystery. It is set in the period immediately before the peaceful Edo period of Japan, during which earlier time, three powerful warlords struggled for power with other powerful daimyo, eventually managing to unify Japan under the most powerful shogun, Tokugawa Ieyasu. The film is based on a famous novel, Kokuroju, by Honobu Yonezawa.

Unlike some other samurai films, such as the recent Netflix series, Shogun, The Samurai and the Prisoner is an interior-based film. There are few outdoor scenes, and most of the action takes place within the besieged Arioka Castle (also known as Itama Castle), and within that, in its basement dungeon. Here, the daimyo Murashige Araki (Masahiro Motoki) will imprison the envoy samurai Kuroda Kanbei (Masaki Suda), going against the samurai code which requires Lord Murashige to execute Kuroda. Instead, the daimyo keeps Kuroda in his dungeon, and takes advantage of Kuroda’s renowned strategic and tactical nous to help solve a series of mysteries and crimes.

Director Kurosawa Kiyoshi (no relation to the other famous director) creates an engrossing series of set-pierces, which have the seasons as their boundaries. He contains the action within the limited sets, but the film never feels cramped. The ensemble cast is all superb, helping create a mini-world in which the action unfolds. The multiplicity of characters and motives can get a bit confusing (Japanese audiences might have a better handle on the historical detail), but this is helped by the number of characters who die along the way, leaving fewer and fewer to deal with. In any event, it is not too important to follow every detail of the historical events.

The mysteries are elegantly solved by Kuroda, and there are also rewarding philosophical grace notes to enjoy. It’s a very engaging story, beautifully realised for the big screen, with gorgeous sets and costumes, and excellent acting. There’s even a tea ceremony used as a tactic of warfare. Highly recommended.

The Dreamed Adventure IN COMPETITION

Germany, France, Bulgaria, Austria, 2026, Dir: Valeska Grisebach 6/10

Intro (by Nashen Moodley): this film won the Jury Prize at Cannes. It’s an incredible surprising film – a sprawling crime saga, set in the Badlands of Bulgaria.

Review: This film is certainly not a travelogue of Bulgaria. Having seen it, there’s no way I want to be travelling in Bulgaria. It certainly has its Badlands.

The film tells a story of the seeming disappearance of a businessman (though not the suit-and-tie type), Said (Syuleyman Alilov Letifov). He has reconnected with an old flame, Veska (Yana Radeva, eminently watchable), an archaeologist who has returned to work on a site near the area she used to live in her younger days. The whole area seems to have been taken over by the Bulgarian mob, under the leadership of the sinister Illiya (Stoicho Kostadinov), and the authorities are nowhere in evidence. Veska goes about her work, but also tries to find Said, and so gets involved with all sorts of characters, some benign, some threatening.

The film has something of Antonioni about it. Perhaps it’s the empty-yet-menacing landscapes. Perhaps it’s the long periods when nothing seems to be happening. The film’s runtime is 2hrs 47 minutes, but it feels longer. It is well acted, well directed, well written, and it looks great. The whole setting is so unusual that it is intriguing. But so little actually happens. Even the ending is a kind of non-event. Lots of stuff has happened in the past, we gather. But not much of it is happening in the film. However magnetic Veska’s character is, it’s not enough. And I did feel rather betrayed when she got together with a rather disreputable-looking character towards the end. It seemed out of her independent character.

There is only so such wandering about that an audience can stand in a film. And lots of this audience didn’t stand for it. Or rather, they did, and they left. And those that remained uttered an audible group groan when Veska says, significantly, towards the end: “I missed you.” This was followed by a smattering of clapping. The audience was underwhelmed.

Sunday 14 June

Jane B par Agnès B

France, 1988, Dir: Agnès Varda 7/10

Another charming, meandering film from Agnès Varda about her friend Jane Birkin, much like Wim Wenders’ treatment of Yohji Yamamoto. This film was made in 1988 and restored in 2014. Varda is amazingly successful in her meanderings: she just seems to follow the various threads of Birkin’s life and art, weaving together quite a comprehensive portrait of a woman I did not know much about, other than odd facts like her relationship with Serge Gainsbourg, their recordings, their child Charlotte, and the eponymous bag.

Interestingly, in this film there’s a reference to the thread in the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur (Minotaur (2026, Andrey Zvyagintsev) won the Sydney Film Prize at this year’s SFF): Ariadne gave Theseus a thread to help him escape the Minotaur in the labyrinth.

Fjord IN COMPETITION

Romania, France, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, 2026, Dir: Cristian Mungiu 8/10

Here is yet another film with interfering government agencies possibly putting their oar in prematurely and perhaps making things worse (see Queen at Sea (2026, Hammer) and The World of Love (2025, Yoon).

The film starts with a family, new to Norway, having moved from Romania, enrolling their children in a new school. It seems very nice, with a warm welcome from a pleasant headmaster and caring teachers. But soon, in a gym class in self-defence (ironically), a teacher sees some bruises on the family’s older daughter, Ella (Vanessa Ceban), the process swings into action, even though the headmaster is more inclined to just keep an eye on things. But no, the other teachers are adamant: a child must be “saved.”

Parallel with this story is another one about a girl, Noora (Henrikke Lund-Olsen), who befriends the family, and particularly the two older siblings, Ella, and Emmanuel (Jonathan Ciprian Breazu). Noora is “difficult” and reckless, and may be self-harming, but she seems better when she’s around Ella. We soon learn why.

She also volunteers to look after the headmaster’s family grandfather, Åke (Øyvind Venstad Kjeksrud), who is in a wheelchair and doesn’t speak. He speaks to her and she understands him, potentially helping him to end his life (as he wishes to do).

Both these story strands involve an examination of the issue of personal autonomy: is the grandfather entitled to take his own life, or should society prevent this? And is a family entitled to discipline its children in the way they choose, or could society intervene?

I understand that the main story is inspired by a real-life case of a family called Bodnariu, whose children were taken away by the Norwegian authorities. The procedural aspects of this film are very detailed and seem accurate – and chilling. The legal document that authorises the taking away of the children is one page long! When the mother, Lisbet (Renate Reinsve), sees the legal document, she exclaims: “You've taken the children without our permission?” Says Gunda, the child protection officer: “ We don't need permission.” Unbelievable!

The authorities tell Lisbeth that her husband (Mihai, played by Sebastian Stan) had “pretty much admitted that he hit them.” In fact, in his statement Mihai at first admits to slapping them on the bottom, but the authorities translated that into “hit them repeatedly.” They then coerce him into signing this false statement. They say he can go home only if he signs it. He says it's a matter of interpretation.

This leads me to a very important aspect of the story, which isn't really explored in the film, and that is the language difficulties. Norwegian is not the family's first language and yet they are all interviewed in Norwegian and forced to sign statements in Norwegian. There is a real question as to the interpretation of the words “slap,” “hit,” “kick” and “beat.” If I had been their lawyer, I would have definitely raised this issue and questioned the validity of any statements signed by the family.

Also, during the court procedure, evidence is given by legal counsel on both sides – something that would never happen in the Australian or British or US legal systems. These assertions go unquestioned, which seems strange to me. The prosecution constantly leads the witnesses, putting words in their mouths. Especially about the “slapping.” And outrageous evidence is given (by the Prosecution, leading the witness) about ancient traditions in Romania about child discipline. The film also has interesting things to say about the use of the media in criminal and safe civil procedures.

I'm wondering whether the title “Fjord” relates to the fact that this is, legally speaking, a very slippery slope. And we have not even begun the criminal trial yet! The film ends with the family taking its chances outside the system.

The film draws to a close quite quickly as all the threads come together, but I wouldn't say the drama has ended. There is so much more to play out, even as the film concludes. What will happen to the family? I can easily imagine a sequel. And I'd love to see it.

The director has given us in Fjord a considered and detailed critique of state and human interference in what some would consider private affairs, letting us understand for ourselves the complexities involved. He and his cinematographer, Tudor Vladimir Panduru, have also made it all look coldly beautiful in delicious widescreen cinematography. All in all this is a very thoughtful and intriguing contemporary drama.

END OF REVIEWS FOR 2026.