A young Jewish boy somewhere in Eastern Europe seeks refuge during World War II where he encounters many different characters.
“Yes, it’s fiction. So what? Every book in the world is fiction, from Ernest Hemingway to Victor Hugo. But the fiction should be real. And what’s going on in my movie, and what’s going on in the book, is going on around the world at this moment. This very second children are being killed, murdered, abused, burned – in Mali, Syria, Afghanistan, everywhere.” The Guardian, March 16, 2020.
“Yes. Yes, of course. We shoot it in 104 days. So, and chronologically, we shoot it chronologically. We shoot it, one and a half year. And during the one and a half year, we did have 104 shooting days. And the first version of the rough cut was four and a half hour. The rough cut. The first version. So the final cut, it’s about two hours and 49 minutes. And so, we edited this movie, maybe, Oh my God, six or seven months, just only really step by step. Because the most important for any movie, I’m not just only talking about The Painted Bird, but the most important for any movie is tempo. It’s tempo. And the tempo is consequently about the rhythm of any movie. So this is a lot. This is a lot for any director, just only to really to maintain this tempo, and the tempo is like a river.” LRM Online, December 5 , 2019.
The Lighthouse, United States of America, Canada, 2019, directed by Robert Eggers
Two lighthouse keepers try to maintain their sanity while living on a remote and mysterious New England island in the 1890s.
“In that it really happened, in Wales, in the early part of the 19th century. The way the story is told and ends is like a folk tale, so how much truth there is to this “true” story, who knows. Very little of that story aside from the fact they’re both named Thomas came into The Lighthouse, but the idea that they were both named Thomas struck a chord. I was like, “Okay, this is a movie about identity, and can devolve into some weird, obscure places.” Then we started researching all about period lighthouses and the maritime community. What are these people eating? What are they wearing? And where are they living? And how are they living? Reading [Herman] Melville and [Robert Louis] Stevenson and other stuff — mostly, frankly, for learning how people talk. As we’re doing all this work, we start to see a story take place. And then we’re saying, “Okay, what fairy tales or folktales or myths is this starting to line up with?”
Das Vorspiel, Germany, France, 2019 directed by Ina Weisse
Anna Bronsky is a violin teacher at the Conservatoire. Against the advice of her colleagues, she imposes the admission of a pupil, in whom she sees a great talent. With a lot of involvement, she prepares Alexander for the end-of-year exam and neglects her young son Jonas, who is also a violinist and ice hockey fan. She moves away more and more from her husband, so fond of him, the French "luthier" Philippe Bronsky. At the approach of audition, Anna pushes Alexander towards performances more and more exceptional. The decisive day, an accident occurs…
„Was ist eine starke Frauenfigur? Das weiß ich nicht. Ich weiß, dass Anna vieles in sich vereint. Dass sie eine Nervosität hat, dass sie nicht weiß, was sie bestellen soll oder wie sie ihren Schuh zumacht. Und dass sie auf der anderen Seite eine ganz klare Vision hat, wie sich ein Ton eigentlich anhören müsste. Sie weiß, dass der Weg dorthin sehr, sehr weit ist und sehr hart. Für mich macht ihre Stärke aus, dass sie im Leben ringt, dass sie um ihre Ehe ringt, dass sie um die Musik ringt, um ihren Schüler, um ihren Sohn: Sie macht es sich nicht leicht, und vielleicht ist das eine Stärke. Als was würden Sie eine starke Frau bezeichnen? Was ist eine starke Frau?“ Filmdienst, January 24, 2020
‘’Everybody has to find their own answer. Because if you give one answer now, ninety-nine answers are out. There is not one answer. Your answer is probably more interesting than the other answers. But, something happened! You read some books and then you walk around with these characters in your head. I don’t know the end of the book. I know something about the character. It’s great that you live with that character ten minutes after the end of the film. Without any explaining or preaching. We don’t preach. You just have an experience with this character.’’ Filmint, June 23, 2020
Corpus Christi, original title Boże Ciało, Poland, France, 2019, directed by Jan Komasa
Daniel experiences a spiritual transformation in a detention center. Although his criminal record prevents him from applying to the seminary, he has no intention of giving up his dream and decides to minister a small-town parish.
‘’ So Piotr and I decided very early on that we shouldn’t have moved the camera at all. The camera was fixed, the actors moved, but we didn’t. So the actors had to take positions and be very strict where they stood, because it was fixed, we couldn’t change anything. It was a method we used for 98% of the movie, during which the camera didn’t move at all. There are only two hand-held shots, the first and the last one, and there are few push-ups, so we pushed the camera for maybe 5 times only towards Daniel, so to underline there was something going on in him. That’s the only thing, and it’s never a push-up greater than 15cm. It’s very delicate. In terms of the light, Piotr came and said, “you know, it’s simple, when he becomes a priest there is more sun.” So when he’s in the juvenile detention center there is no sun at all and then suddenly during the first mass, it appears. We shot in the church for 5 days, so Piotr had these lamps which were mechanically operated so he could easily turn them on while Daniel was conducting masses.” The Italian Rêve, September 10, 2019.
‘’Reading the script, I felt like I was reading two movies at the same time. One was about a guy who pretends to be a priest, a movie about roles and identities. The other one was about a community that was fractured; people who are rejected don’t hesitate to reject other people, as well. Magically, these two films communicate with each other. Your brain sort of connects them, and some amazing meaning squeezes out of the story. There are paradoxes in the script that are very smart and very well thought out. For instance, it’s a film about a liar who tells the truth about the community. It’s a film about a patient who runs the therapy on people from the village. You have so many paradoxes in the film thanks to this unique structure. I knew I had something very extraordinary, and I was so happy to have it. I consider myself very, very lucky.’’ Seventh Row, December 2, 2019
The Whistlers, original title La Gomera, Romania, France, Germany 2019, directed by Corneliu Porumboiu
Not everything is as it seems for Cristi, a policeman who plays both sides of the law. Embarking with the beautiful Gilda on a high-stakes heist, both will have to navigate the twists and turns of corruption, treachery and deception.
‘’I saw a documentary on TV about La Gomera, the island in Spain. From that I learned about the language of whistling and became very curious. That was 10 years ago. I started to read about the language, and I went to the island where they were teaching it. It was then that I knew I wanted to do a film about the character from Police, Adjective. Being a film about language and codes, I thought I could play with genres; cinema at the end of the day is coding reality, after all. When I write, it’s like going back to the first act, and trying to be there, be present with the characters. Eventually it is them who move me into the story. I have a very particular way of writing. Police, Adjective had eight or nine drafts. I wanted the dialogue to be functional, transactional. And not to go too deep. Each of the characters has a double nature that can’t be opened too much. At the end of the day I’m making these movies for myself. You have to believe in what you’re doing, at least at the beginning of the shoot. [laughs]” Slant Magazine, February 26, 2020
‘’I saw it in a way that, OK, my character will be sincere for that. On the other hand, I said this type of simplicity – at the end of the day, the film is about the process of learning this language. But, at the same time, the language became necessary not to use for the way that he wanted. It became more than that for him. But this process of learning the language, to simplify things…I think in my mind, it has to [make sense] for the character. So, through this process of learning, we go back like a puzzle through some situations from before [via flashbacks]. I wanted to have this movement through and for the character learning this language in a more simple way and clarifying him at some points.” Slash Film, February 28, 2020
The Wild Goose Lake, original title Nan fang che zhan de ju hui, China, France, 2019, directed by Yi'nan Diao.
A gangster on the run sacrifices everything for his family and a woman he meets while on the lam.
“I see night as a great filter. When you are on location, the landscape, the buildings, the streets might not be what you want for the story. But at night, I can utilize the lighting design to make certain parts visible and certain parts invisible, certain parts pop, certain parts fall away. You can navigate the space in a specific way using lighting. Also, night tends to flatten depth and perspective. If you put things on stage in a theater lit for night, you only see two dimensions. So we make whatever we’re shooting look very surreal, because you’re not seeing it in depth, in three dimensions. We turn it into a flat space.” Filmmaker Magazine, March 5, 2020
“Yes. The film is a vehicle for my views on a number of things. But the events I used in the film all had their sources in real life, even the “Congress of the Thieves.” The congress actually took place in Wuhan, around 2012. It was a national congress even. All the representatives from important sites in each province were gathered in Wuhan to exchange their experiences and divide territories. Maybe that was their intention as well. They even coordinated travel arrangements and organized thieving competitions. They were exposed and the whole deal fell apart. They were in the middle of dividing up the territory in front of a map of Wuhan when they were captured. The news item made me laugh for a whole minute. I immediately thought that was great material for drama, could even be a play. The irony. Imagine, a national congress of thieves! Maybe all the congresses will be like the ones in “1984.” Film Comment, September-October 2019
Beanpole, original title Dylda, Russia 2019, directed by Kantemir Balagov.
1945, Leningrad. WWII has devastated the city, demolishing its buildings and leaving its citizens in tatters, physically and mentally. Two young women search for meaning and hope in the struggle to rebuild their lives amongst the ruins.
“The most important thing, when it comes to the origins of Beanpole, is the book by Svetlana Alexievich [The Unwomanly Face of War: An Oral History of Women in World War II]. Not only did it inspire me, but after reading it, I realized how little I know about the war and about the role of women in the war. I also realized that no one in contemporary Russian cinema is addressing this issue. The only way that war is addressed in films in Russia right now is by glorifying it; people make certain types of pseudo-patriotic films. This is wrong, and this story should be told — but furthermore, I think someone from my generation should tell it, so that younger viewers will see it and understand this period. Because right now, they don’t know about the aftermath of war, or about the role of women in the war. I was also inspired by a woman who said that she wanted to give birth so bad, to get rid of the death that surrounded her and the world. I was curious about what happens with a person like her — this biological shift, mental shift and physical shift.” Vulture, February 15, 2020
“I was curious not necessarily about that period. I was curious about the aftermath of war. Right now I’m curious about the aftermath of the Chechen war. In such periods, you can see the quintessence of human nature. There are no absolutes. You can be a hero, you can be a coward. I really like it when my heroes act abnormally, immorally. At the same time, even if they act amorally, throughout the film I express compassion towards them, I understand them, why they are acting like that. And this is really important. This I took from literature.” Roger Ebert, January 28, 2020
Shirley, United States of America, 2020, directed by Josephine Decker.
A famous horror writer finds inspiration for her next book after she and her husband take in a young couple.
“I initially thought we were gonna shoot it in a much more locked-down, Hitchcockian way, but then there was something so visceral and sensual and tender about the relationship between Rose and Shirley that we ended up shooting it much more handheld because we wanted to be there and get in close and interface with the actors. It’s always a discovery process when you get in there with your collaborators. The movie in your head is very rarely the movie you end up making.” The Skinny, October 22, 2020
“What’s exciting about her is that what she’s doing in storytelling is what I’m also trying to do in storytelling: to collapse the boundaries between the real and the imagined. And she slips you into that imagined space — not abruptly, but very seamlessly, so you don’t really realize that you’ve gone there — and I think that’s very hard to do. It’s exciting. You’re always trying to find things that are like the thing that you want to do so that you can figure out how to do the thing you want to do. With Shirley, I had a bit more of a pathway.” Vox, June 9, 2020
Ema, Chile, 2019, directed by Pablo Larrain.
A couple deals with the aftermath of an adoption that goes awry as their household falls apart.
“[Ema] is like a labyrinth where you don’t exactly understand everything,” says Larraín of his surrealist fever dream. “But it’s hypnotic somehow, so you follow it without really understanding, and you get to connect the dots [by the end]. And when you do, when you get to know what it is, what you saw, what they were doing, the movie opens up and restarts again. I like to have the audience processing the movie at the same time as the filmmaker.” NME, April 30, 2020
“Well, a little bit, but also something that [co-screenwriter] Guillermo [Calderón] wrote, and part of it that Gael brought to the scene too. It could have been longer. It’s the friction between those generations—Gastón is used to being in big spaces, theatres, and he controls the dancers, and he’s like a little god and he tells them what to do, what not to do, how to move, do this, do that. He has this world around contemporary dance, which is, by the way, very beautiful and I love it. But in the movie, the dancers think what he’s doing is just old-fashioned, that it’s completely unrelated to what’s going on in the street and what people are doing, and they’re telling him that: your work as a contemporary dancer is not really reflecting what’s going on, and it doesn’t reflect us, and it doesn’t bring our spirit onto your stage. We’re going to do it in the street, not on your stage, because that’s where things happen, and you know what? We’re going to go burn that fucking street too, because we want to leave a trace, that’s who we are, we leave traces, and that’s our legacy, and that’s our testimony. And it will vanish, because they don’t have the potential just to do and create something that will stay in time. Their actions are meant and created to disappear. And that is something that is fascinating, because it’s like a happening; it’s something that’s created to be evaporated. And it leaves a trace only in your memory. You can see their traces; you can see what they’re going through just by looking at them.” Film Comment, September 7, 2019
Öndög, Mongolia, China, 2019, directed by Quan'an Wang.
A murder case in the Mongolian steppe. A herder is asked to guard the crime scene - a woman who resolutely scares off both wolves and her neighbour. She has her own plans for the future, which are closely linked to the myths of her homeland.
“The technological advancement that mankind is so proud of has distorted us to some extent. Living in giant civilized cities makes it easy for us to forget the essential fact that we are just animals and part of the larger world. The nomadic way of life in Mongolia leaves people no choice but to maintain a much closer relationship with nature. Making a film in Mongolia provides a point of view for reflecting on the meaning of human civilisation from the perspective of nature. I am always longing for nature; in this sense I am Mongolian.” Berlin Film Journal, February 2019
„Certains plans du films, où ne sont cadrées qu’une bande de terre et une bande de ciel, m’ont rappelé les toiles de Mark Rothko. Est ce que c’est une référence qui vous parle ou vous inspire ?
Lui et moi avons une idée communes : plus c’est épuré, plus c’est beau. La simplicité peut permettre d’exprimer le plus de choses, y compris le plus de beauté. Il faut enlever, enlever, revenir au point d’origine, et on se rend souvent compte que tout état déjà contenu dedans. Je suis d’accord avec votre comparaison. On en revient également à la philosophie orientale. Dans la peinture chinoise, l’une des idées prépondérantes c’est de laisser du blanc. Laisser du blanc, du vide, pour permettre au spectateur d’imaginer des choses. C’est ça pour moi le sens de l’abstraction: inviter.“ Le Polyester, December 1, 2020.
Babyteeth, Australia, 2019, directed by Shannon Murphy.
Milla, a seriously ill teenager, falls in love with a drug dealer, Moses, her parents worst nightmare.
“We talked a lot about how we wanted Babyteeth to feel timeless. We looked at a lot of William Eggleston photography, which feels so contemporary still today, but of course isn’t, and that’s something particular to his colors and palettes. For costuming, I follow the energies of the characters, so Milla starts off quite yellow, and then becomes more lavender as she’s connecting more to Moses because that’s more of his color. In terms of framing, we looked a lot at the work of [John] Cassavetes, who I think was really amazing at capturing freneticism. I wanted the characters to have an intimate connection with the cinematographer, Andrew Commis, and created some choreography that would make that energy happen.” Interview Magazine, June 22, 2020
“Not until the very end did it really sink in that this is an “illness movie.” Were you conscious of tropes around films with a sick protagonist and having to fight to make cancer something that might challenge and threaten Milla but not define her entirely?
Yeah, completely. And I think that also came from talking to professionals who work with children in those circumstances. They read the script, and they felt like it was overall really accurate. Because rather than these young people wallowing in what’s going on, they’re still wanting to push back and rebel and live their lives at a really intense and rapid pace in many ways. But I’m not someone who really sort of enjoys those films that you’re talking about. I do feel they’ve got a place and an audience, and that’s excellent. But it’s not my reality of how people behave and how the world looks. To me, I am always striving to capture something that is, of course, entertaining and, to me, often theatrical because my background is in theatre, but that still feels deeply authentic and relatable. Because it’s so real and messy and honest. And also, I made this film for teenagers. I hope that they do watch it and really feel like they’re incredibly well represented. But I did make this with an adult audience in mind.” Slant Magazine, June 17, 2020
Hope, original title Håp, Norway, Sweden, 2019, directed by Maria Sødahl.
The relationship between artist-partners Tomas and Anja is put to the test after Anja gets a life-threatening diagnosis.
“This was my full intention. The story starts out as a cancer story which becomes a love story. The main characters at the beginning are not aware that they are part of their love story. Suddenly, they are a couple fighting together against cancer; they get to know each other again and their love gets a second chance. I’m fascinated as well by the figure of Anja - how difficult it is for her to ask Tomas for help. She aims to be self-sufficient in the relationship and in the family. But eventually this is a bad idea. We are alone by nature, but I believe that one can only experience true love by accepting being mutually dependant of one another – anything else seems destructive and meaningless.” Nordisk Film & TV Fond, November 25, 2019
“Just one other question about the cast: you had to assemble far more than that because you have this marvelous family that you work with. Did it take you a long time to find all the children?
Yeah, that was a priority for this movie. It all had to do with the characters, and we worked with a lot of amateurs. All the doctors in the film are amateurs. They’re doctors, healthcare professionals. Which was really, really fun and interesting to get the personalities behind the white coats. Really funny.
And the brusqueness with which some of them deliver bad news!
Yes, because actors cannot deal with that. They have to have empathy. And I said okay, but earlier today you have had a really shitty day with your wife so that’s what you come with and then you are going to deliver this. And how do you deliver death sentences? Which is really interesting, because they do not really learn that. And it has nothing to do with what you’re educated for; it is about personality and how experienced you are. “ Hammer to Nail, October 17, 2019
Wasp Network, France, Brazil, Spain, Belgium, 2019, directed by Olivier Assayas.
The story of five Cuban political prisoners who had been imprisoned by the United States since the late 1990s on charges of espionage and murder.
‘’I think that with the perspective of time, things that are conflicted, contradicted or emotional can be looked at with an objective eye and eventually rid of the bias or preconceptions of the period. What I’m interested in is the process of politics, the cruelty of it, and how people are victims of their own passions and involvement with things they consider bigger than themselves. Those passions are transient. People are willing to sacrifice their lives for something that, 20 years later, they wonder if they genuinely cared about. That’s the extent of which I’m interested in politics—politics as one of the most powerful and deceitful passions of humans. I don’t feel I have to make movies that deal with characters whose passions I share. I’m more interested in characters with passions I don’t share because it gives me the distance to look at them in a simpler and clear cut way. Maybe I’m not a big fan of the person [laughs] but I think they went through something kind of fascinating. His life has become defined by his political convictions that are changing as the world is changing. That’s what made him interesting.’’ Filmmaker Magazine, July 20, 2020
‘’In your previous film Carlos, there's a theme revolving around the terrorist as an icon. Here, Juan Pablo Roque [Wagner Moura] says, “I'm a movie star.” Is it a favourite theme of yours?
It's something I realised after the fact, meaning after I made the film. What is paradoxical is that the character of Carlos is like Roque, and he is the opposite of René González (Édgar Ramírez, who also played Carlos). I'm interested in the character of Roque, who is a family man, because he is the polar opposite of René. At the start of the film, we follow the parallel paths of two exiles. Roque is more relatable because he's more human and hardworking, and the other one, René, goes to Miami to enjoy the good life. All of these elements, even the craziest ones, are based on fact.” Cineuropa, September 6, 2019
Il Traditore, Italy, France, Germany, Brazil, 2019, directed by Marco Bellocchio.
The real life of Tommaso Buscetta, the so-called "boss of the two worlds," the first mafia informant in Sicily in the 1980s.
“The main character is indeed a traitor from Cosa Nostra’s point of view, from the point of view of Mafia tradition, from the point of view of the past, and from the point of view of the family he belongs to. For Buscetta, betrayal is an extremely painful decision, but at the same time, it’s him rejecting a certain type of Mafia that made decisions he doesn’t agree with. But Buscetta is no hero; he’s a brave human being who wants to save his and his family’s skin, and he’s also quite conservative because he yearns for the type of Mafia that watched him grow up, which baptised him, so to speak. He’s therefore nothing like these revolutionary traitors who betray their past to change the world.” Cineuropa, May 24, 2019
“The whole trial was all filmed by Italian TV, so we one year’s stock of footage of the whole trial, and we had to synthesize in 20 minutes, so of course, we made research, but we also reinvented it. We were lucky to film in the same place where the Maxi trial was held, and we were inspired by the bunker that they created to allow this trial [because] this trial had a theatrical, operatic tone. All the attendees – the judge, the prisoners, the spectators – tried to create obstacles in a very dramatic, very melodramatic way. And we really wanted to preserve and defend the Sicilian language. In fact, we put subtitles in the Italian version to let the Sicilian play in all its grandeur and power. The Sicilian language becomes one of the lead characters of this trial because it too has a theatrical dimension.” The Moveable Fest, January 30, 2020
Eté 85, France, Belgium, 2020, directed by François Ozon.
While boating, Alexis's boat capsizes and almost drowns before being rescued by David, who ultimately ends up as the friend of his dreams.
“Summer of ’85 was originally a novel by Aidan Chambers: Dance on my Grave. I read the novel in 1985 when I was seventeen years old, and I loved it. It spoke to me personally. The book is playful and inventive. It has drawings, press clippings, changing points of view… I so much enjoyed reading it that when I started to direct short films, I thought: “If one day I make a feature film, my first will be an adaptation of this novel.” And thirty-five years later…It didn’t occur to me until now to make this film because the truth is, more than anything, I wanted to see it as a moviegoer! And I was convinced that someone else was going to make it – an American filmmaker. But to my surprise, it never happened. After wrapping up By the Grace of God, I reread the book out of curiosity and I was shocked, because I realized that I had already filmed many of the book’s themes: cross-dressing in A Summer Dress or The New Girlfriend; the scene at the morgue in Under the Sand; a relationship with a professor in In the House; the cemetery in Frantz… This book had been fueling my imagination, yet I’d never made the connection. I had forgotten about the novel’s scrapbook-style, which also seemed very cinematographic to me. And I remembered that when at the age of eighteen I had written a first draft of the script with a friend, I had only focused on the love story and had removed everything that seemed secondary at the time, such as the social worker, the professor, the parents, Judaism, and the flashbacks.
Perhaps I couldn’t handle all the different elements back then. Films are made when they’re supposed to be made. This story needed time for me to mature so that I would know how to tell it. In the end, I remained faithful to the novel’s narrative structure. I adapted the story’s background to make it French and I transposed it to the time period when I first read the book. The movie encompasses both the book’s reality and my memories of what I felt when first reading it. “ High On Films, August 7, 2020
“ Pour moi c’était important qu’on soit dans la tête d’Alex, qu’on partage ses émotions, qu’on partage sa vision complètement idéalisée de sa relation avec David, et puis tout à coup un retour au réel. Ce retour au réel est douloureux mais, ce que j’aime chez ce personnage, c’est qu’il a une capacité à s’échapper du réel puis à finalement l’affronter, à aller de l’avant en sublimant son histoire par l’écriture. Parce que tout ce qu’on entend en voix off, c’est lui qui écrit. Il y a ce jeu de mise en abyme par rapport à la création : il réinvente cette histoire, il essaie de la raconter au juge, à l’assistante sociale, et il en fait un roman. ‘’ Trois Couleurs, June 18, 2020
The Nest, United Kingdom, Canada, 2020, directed by Sean Durkin.
Life for an entrepreneur and his American family begins to take a twisted turn after moving into an English country manor.
“Nothing specific
for me. In 1986, I was only four, going on five... I think. My math is bad
[chuckles]. So I don't have any sort of concrete memories from that time. I
moved from England to New York in the early 90s and they were very different
places. It was more the sudden change of environment, in that mood, that had a
big impact on me. In 2012, I went back to England to make a show called
Southcliffe and I noticed that New York and London were very similar at that
point in time. So the two places that kind of merged in a way just come a lot
closer culturally than they were when I was a kid. And so the starting point
for the film was wanting to explore that. So once I did that, I knew I wanted
it to be about the values of the time and about Rory's character in this
American dream that he was chasing and sort of coming back home and returning.
It ended up being 1986 because I was just researching the time and what was
happening in London in 1986 was that there was a lot of deregulation and
privatization. There was something called the Big Bang, which was when the
London markets were deregulated and could trade global companies could come in
and trade there. So I wanted to set it around that point in time because of
that. So that Rory's character has this pitch like that he can come in and be
the sort of bridge between America and England because he knew both places,
which was something that was happening at the time. So that's how it got to
1986.” Flaunt,
November 17, 2020.
Other notable films, alphabetical : 37 sekanzu, Japan, 2019, directed by Hikari ; Atlantique, France, Senegal, Belgium, 209, directed by Mati Diop; Dark River, United Kingdom, 2017, directed by Clio Barnard ; Dark Waters, United States of America, 2019, directed by Todd Haynes ; Deux, France, Luxembourg, Belgium, 2019, directed by Filippo Meneghetti; Jeanne, France, 209, directed by Bruno Dumont; Little Women, United States of America, 2019, directed by Greta Gerwig ; Seules les bêtes, France, Germany, 2019, directed by Dominik Moll ; Swallow, United States of America, France, 2019, directed by Carlo Mirabella-Davis; Sibyl, France, Belgium 2019, directed by Justine Triet.
International Film Festival Rotterdam : Fanny Lye Deliver'd, United Kingdom, Germany, 2019, directed by Thomas Clay ; A Frenchman, original title Frantsuz, Russia, 2019, directed by Andrei SmirnovSpecial mention: First Light, United Kingdom, 2020, directed by Jonathan Glazer
Les Inrockuptibles
Le Polyester
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