While it might be considered less important or engaging than Oshima’s later work, Night and Fog in Japan is a fascinating reflection on the dynamics of political movements in 1950s Japan.
Review by Martin Cleary

With its cool monochrome, nonchalant protagonist, freshness of tone and naturalistic feel, Kisses has as much to do with European neo-realism as it does with Japanese cinema, and was no doubt influenced by Masumura’s stint as a student at the Centro Sperimentale in Rome in the 1950s.
Review by Virginie Sélavy

Inland Empire, David Lynch’s tenth feature, is in many ways a summing-up of his career so far.
Review by Kim Nicolajsen

Messy is probably the best word to describe Nicolas Roeg’s Puffball, his first theatrically released feature in twelve years, and by far the most questionable and simplistic film in the director’s canon so far.
Review by Pamela Jahn

Der Letzte Mann is less celebrated than FW Murnau’s Nosferatu (1922) or Sunrise (1928), and its imaginative scope is certainly narrower. But it is perhaps the director’s most perfect example of purely visual narrative.
Review by Peter Momtchiloff

An unforgettable silent masterpiece made by two giants of cinema, Tabu reminds us how it was once possible to take innocent delight in the alien-ness of a distant culture.
Review by Peter Momtchiloff

Hailed as a masterpiece of early German cinema and still regarded as one of the best horror films ever made, the 1922 classic Nosferatu has stood the test of time, despite a shaky start.
Review by Lindsay Tudor

Rescue Dawn is an unlikely adaptation: Werner Herzog has made a feature film based on one of his own documentaries. Viewers may forgive him this unusual act of recycling insofar as his documentary films are already widely known for blurring the boundaries between facts and fiction.
Review by Brad Prager

Frank but not lurid, grim but humane, Quai des Orfèvres is a perfectly realized thriller of the mundane, never cynical enough to be noir, and all the better for it.
Review by Peter Momtchiloff

Despite having influenced a whole generation of major directors, from Takashi Miike and John Woo to Quentin Tarantino and Jim Jarmusch, Seijun Suzuki has remained a relatively unknown name in the West. While some of his followers have overused and even formulised the stylised violence, mischievous humour and fetishistic attention to detail that he introduced, Suzuki’s own films still look as alien and fresh as they did at the time they were made.
Feature by Virginie Sélavy