Considering how Fassbinder carefully orchestrated the drama of the ‘The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant’ and framed the shots so beautifully, Ozon's ‘Peter Von Kant’ becomes inferior in nature.

Miko Revereza's Nowhere Near shows how colonialism erases entire people and structures, even lineages and histories. There's something so potent and human in this memoir about the fear of statelessness and colonial trauma. It is something so spiritual and metaphysical.

Essential Truths of the Lake finds Lav Diaz revisiting moments that are undoubtedly familiar. It’s a story that has been previously presented in more striking fashion, but its present iteration is still an adventure worth diving into.

Even though Love is a Gun is by far from redefining the neo-noir genre, there is still something enthralling about a forlorn man desperately in pursuit of rewriting his fate.

This year’s QCShorts are very promising. With entries from young filmmakers (and an indie film legend), these short films showcased in the festival capture the human experience in such unique and creative ways. In this article, we will be discussing all six entries, ranging from inescapable yearning and religious guilt to exploration of sexuality.

‘All of Us Strangers’ is a hymn for the lonesome, a saving grace that comes knocking at your door in the middle of the night. It is very personal, modern, and queer, tackling the long and winding road of grief but focusing more on its first stage—denial.

For a film about faith and questioning, I think it’s quite ingenious to use the medium of slow cinema to convey its themes because, in a way, there are a lot of commonality with each other in the sense that you have to be ready to embrace both, and you are willing to listen. And one can’t really force either, you have to devote yourself to it.

Amanda Nell Eu's attempts to explore these themes of puberty and womanhood while fusing body horror and adolescence are admirable because ‘Tiger Stripes’ deftly maintains a balance between realism and mythology.

From its direction to the performances, ‘Gitling’ perfectly captures that melancholic and quiet sense of loneliness and the pure joy of finding someone who’ll listen and understand you.

Arnold is a Model Student shows rallying students and activists side by side to make everyone realize how oppression exists in all forms, a subtle jab at the current Thai administration that curtails its people’s basic right to free speech. The school is indeed a microcosm of the community, where the principal and the head of the country both boil down to a single, authoritarian evil.

Though unrefined in some aspects, 12 Weeks still finds itself to be a fascinating debut from Anna Matutina.

Autobiography is very much a product of its home country. Due to similarities in customs and social issues presented in the film, other Southeast Asian audiences might find the film hitting close to home. Its structure feels familiar but what makes it stand out in this year's releases is its coherency and brilliance in all areas.

Even if one finds difficulty in the film’s individual plotlines, Plan 75 snakes around these at least with frames and shots that outline the loss of personal grief and humanity that come with the titular program.

Lav Diaz’s return to film sees one of his grimiest, darkest creations in When The Waves Are Gone, an absurdist presentation of the decay of man and masculinity early in the Duterte regime.

If anything, Ajoomma works in the same way most other K-dramas work: family. Every plot point in this film revolves around the importance of it and the ways it changes dynamically, yet always having love remain in spite of everything.

Having grown up in a Jehovah Witness community, Sarah Watts definitely succeeded in achieving her main purpose of making this. With the help of her co-director Mark Slutsky, You Can Live Forever turned out to be a sweet and tender sapphic drama that was made with such passion and care for its subject material.

This year’s Asian Shorts film program for QCinema features a diverse selection of socially relevant films from filmmakers from China, Nepal, Indonesia, and the Philippines. In their own ways they each deal with issues that afflict their local communities and continue to exemplify the unbridled power of cinema as a tool for reflection on the state of human society today.

At its core, Itim bedazzles its audience with an ethereal approach to storytelling. Much of it is quite moody and even beautiful in spite of its darkness. The way it couples together elements to examine the forsaken and the damned, the horrifying and sometimes disturbing treatment of different imagery, they all manifest a film that proves how excellent and seminal Itim is as a debut film in a legendary filmmaker’s catalogue.

‘She Said’ is a compelling narrative storytelling of the months-long journey of Megan Twohey and Jodi Kantor as they write an article that helped in taking Weinstein down and starting a conversation about workplace harassment.

This year’s QCShorts certainly felt refreshing, in that the range of creativity espoused across all films in question reveals a creative pool of talent that is clearly present in today’s Philippine cinema. Ideas fresh and familiar, unique and exciting, they all come to play for this year’s roster of short films.

Despite the array of searing performances from its cast, Elehiya does nothing to stem the confusion that comes from vaguely dissecting a spiritually-charged island and its colonially-subdued inhabitants.

Amirpour's unwavering commitment to her vision of a stylistic neon pulp movie makes up for the lack of narrative, making the watching experience quite a vibe.

July Jung’s exposé of such a rat race is interesting, in that it identifies a dimension of South Korean culture not often expressed in detail, much less the unfairly competitive system built on corruption, crab mentality, and ruthlessness of working-class labor. If only Next Sohee could consistently find itself crawling out of such a tepid structure, which makes it feel too repetitive despite the emotionally devastating walls it puts up.

Davy Chou’s Return to Seoul is an engrossing character study on identity and what it means to belong, cycling through the inner serenity and restless intensity of oneself, full of multitudes, incredibly evocative, and admirably purposeful. While it may be meandering and confused at times, it is a journey worth taking.

With the use of various surreal imagery, the film effectively removes the idealized version of the empress the majority would have in their heads. It conditions the audience to see her for who she really is, an enigma, and possibly connect to her struggles not as a monarch, but as a human being.