Hitchcockyan

Essentially a murder mystery with a RASHOMON-esque narrative structure involving a prostitute's death - THE GRIM REAPER makes for a supremely impressive debut for Bernardo Bertolucci. The ensuing investigation focuses on the unreliable testimonies of various bystanders through flashbacks, as they recollect their movements on the previous day. However, unlike RASHOMON there's very little contradiction in the suspects' accounts and are merely disjointed by time. The elaborate digressions into each suspect's personal life get tiresome after a while but Bertolucci never loses track of the event that brings all these characters together. Based on a story by Pier Paolo Pasolini and shot in chilling B&W — THE GRIM REAPER offers a fascinating glimpse into marginalized Rome of the 60s - thieves, petty mariners, pimps, prostitutes, homosexuals and assorted disgruntled folk living on fringes. It's primitive Bertolucci to be sure lacking the visual flamboyance and aesthetic vigour of his subsequent epics but when viewed through the neorealist prism: the intentional pseudo documentary—rough edged—slice of life approach, works wonderfully. For a neophyte, Bertolucci displays extraordinary maturity and uncanny command over the medium attested further by his ability to extract effective (if occasionally inconsistent) performances from virtual amateurs.

Ingeniously applying his cerebral skill-set to the mechanics of historical war dramas and factual portraitures — Nolan unleashes a meticulously crafted, suffocatingly suspenseful survival epic that bears his patented structural spin on its dirt-covered sleeve. He doesn't follow a set template but creates his own — radically cross-cutting between perspectives of variable time-frames, the narrative unravels simultaneously on land, water and in air, before converging in a breathtakingly volatile finale. The audacious split-narrative works brilliantly and possesses the urgency that would've otherwise been lost to a more conventional approach, instead we get 100 mins of sustained panic-inducing climax which is further intensified by Hans Zimmer's pulsating score resembling a ticking clock and surging tide.

Nolan isn't really concerned with telling a story, preferring to create an experience - and a supremely immersive one at that! Devoid of didactic monologues and cheap sentimentality, thrusting us headlong onto the Dunkirk sands we're given a glimpse into the crack of rifle-fire, the maelstrom of war, the frenzy of fear, the distinctive wailing siren of the Stukas, the muffled screaming of drowning men or the shell-shocked groans of the ones that temporarily made it. The exclusively Brit ensemble (featuring the likes of Tom Hardy, Mark Rylance, Kenneth Branagh, Cillian Murphy etc) is uniformly excellent with a particularly impressive turn from newcomer Fionn Whitehead. Technically, DUNKIRK is as much a visual feast as aural bliss. Hoyte Van Hoytema's evocative lensing lends stylistic harmony to the proceedings through careful juxtaposition of nerve-wracking air-combat sequences, chaotic underwater stretches with the panoramic paranoia of the war-torn beach, propelled further by bone shattering sound design and some crisp editing.

Ultimately, DUNKIRK is a masterwork of understated terror grounded in brutal reality and in the very best tradition of great (spectacle) cinema — packs the power to transport the audiences into the very heart of the action, especially when experienced on the all-encompassing IMAX screen.

Julia Ducournau's riotous debut feature is a coming-of-age tale spliced with cannibalistic horror. RAW is a visceral and curious attack on the senses, it is repulsive and arousing - often at the same time.

The plot follows Justine - the youngest daughter of a family of vegetarian veterinarians, as she arrives at college to pursue her familial vocation. Thrust into the unrelentingly sadistic hazing week (which among other things will warrant a departure from her dietary constraints), Justine embarks on a gory odyssey of self-discovery.

The heavily pronounced creepy visual aesthetic is maintained throughout, right from its terrifying veterinary school setting which at first glance gives off an "inmate-run-asylum" vibe, with customary behaviours ranging from socially-unacceptable to downright psychotic. And of course the unsettling ubiquitousness of the animals - alive and dead - further amp up the hallucinatory visuals to almost Lynchian levels. But the stomach-churning gore is smartly equalised by a keen sense of character and a savage sense of humour. Garance Marillier's turn as the initially mild- mannered, devout vegetarian Justine who subsequently devolves into a lustful, flesh-crazed carnivore is the backbone of this enterprise. Ella Rumpf is equally impressive as her apathetic elder sister with a dark streak.

Not everything works however, the adversarial sibling dynamic feels haphazardly motivated, characters take convenient sexual detours purely to serve the plot, and the climactic twist at best works as a mildly-amusing punchline. But despite its under-cooked symbolisms and flawed narrative RAW remains a cinematic feast boasting extreme imagery and wicked performances.