With his staggering aerial sequences and daring set pieces, William A. Wellman turns magnificent feats of engineering into vehicles for exhilarating storytelling in Wings, taking a birds-eye perspective of wartime conflicts and innovation that heightens both as displays of monumental human ambition.
The Daniels ponder the maximalist absurdity of all existence, Alejandro Iñárritu composes a surreal interrogation of artistic ego, and Cate Blanchett leads an exacting character study of elitism and exploitation.
Ti West doesn’t quite tread new ground in his grindhouse horror pastiche X, and yet he considers the religious puritanism and rebellious counterculture of 70s America with pulpy retrospection, examining the exploitation that runs deep in both and leaves older generations to wither away in violent, vengeful resentment.
Wes Anderson dedicates an enchanting piece of nostalgia to old-fashioned print journalists, Denis Villeneuve films an unfilmable science-fiction classic, and Jane Campion conducts a sensitive study of masculinity through the western genre.
There is a tragic, hidden beauty affectingly mirrored between Hilary’s passionless life and her once-glorious cinema in Empire of Light, and with Roger Deakins’ radiant photography at Sam Mendes’ disposal, both are united under a rose-tinted conviction of film’s raw, inspiring power.
Charlie Kaufman confounds viewers with his eerie study of depression, Steve McQueen unites several stories of Black empowerment in twentieth century London, and Emerald Fennell delivers a thrilling, feminist tale of vengeance.
Argentina, 1985 takes creative liberties in dramatising the first legal conviction of a military dictatorship, but there is a sincerity baked into its performances and direction which offer its subjects a forthright compassion, reframing the nation’s political legacy as one of democratic victory over fascism.
Everything Everywhere All at Once is running a solid race towards Best Picture at the 95th Academy Awards, but only if The Banshees of Inisherin and All Quiet on the Western Front don’t get there first.
Pedro Costa’s meditative camera lingers in the decaying home of a recent widow, Bong Joon-ho takes a scalpel to South Korea’s class system, and Martin Scorsese’s epic gangster film wrestles with his long-time fascinations of sin and guilt.
There is incredible subtlety and depth to Charlotte Wells’ character work in Aftersun, as one woman’s ruminations over a vacation she went on with her deeply troubled father effectively takes off the rose-tinted glasses of her childhood, and retrospectively pieces together a fragmented portrait of his stifled, internal suffering.
