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The moment we abandon the attempt of genre pigeonholing, which is not even possible, because Parasite has something of everything, this is mainly a proof that it is still possible to make a completely novel, unpredictable, funny, touching, but also at times chilling and shocking film. In a nutshell: an emotional roller coaster. The story gradually builds up and serves up such twists and turns that you will be left with your wits about them, and you won't even dare to guess what kind of finale it will lead you to – for me it is bittersweet.

It's perhaps a bit of a shame that the film takes on more criminal cases to crack than it can handle in its running time. We have a missing girl, an attempted insurance fraud, a girl raped on the subway, a fire and the murder of an elderly woman. Less is sometimes more, as we know, which is why this film would have benefited from dropping one line and developing the others more deeply. Once the second half gets into the interrogation of the two suspects and the reconstruction of the crime in question, the film picks up momentum and becomes very suspenseful. This is mainly due to the performances of Léa Seydoux and Sara Forestier, thanks to whom the viewer has no idea whose side the truth is on, something crucial for the crime genre. Roschdy Zem, on the other hand, as a well-mannered and even-tempered chief, brings light and insight to a dark, corrupt city and twisted cases, and his calming presence makes you believe that everything will soon be all right.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a mostly visually beautiful and emotionally tender portrait of two young women who, despite their different life paths and destinies, find their way to each other, at least for a little while. Talented painter Marianne has the difficult task of secretly and unobtrusively paint a wedding portrait of Héloise, who is about to marry in Milan against her will. Through an elaborate cinematography, the viewer becomes an observer, just like a painter who needs to perceive the smallest details. Thus, the long views and close-ups are not merely a cinematically visual means of telling the story, but meaningfully underscore and complete what Marianne is here to do – paint a portrait. Overall, the film is very intimate and tender, with no major emotional storms, which can feel a bit flat, but it fits the two main characters.

Little Joe is a laboratory engineered flower that, with a little loving and care, is meant to ensure your happiness. It is a very original and ambitious premise that unfortunately squandered its potential. The overall effect of the film is bland, dull, and yet the plot invites so much escalation, chilliness and paranoia. This is probably what the "musical" score of the film is trying to do, which is at times almost horrific, but it’s more like a random mix of chimes, flutes and whistling that feels more tinnitus than music. The acting is a bit cold overall, which would have been useful in the context of the story in the second half of the film, but the visuals succeed where the script and the soundtrack fail. The film thrives on pastel colours, the light green, rust and white creates a perfect contrast to the deep red of the dangerous flower. Unfortunately, nice visuals are not enough for a full-fledged experience.

Salvator Mallo, a film director who still remains creative but whose failing health and therefore his psyche have not allowed him to sit in the director's chair again, returns to his childhood memories and to his late mother. Even though he is in a lot of physical pain and has said goodbye to many people in his life, he suffers more from this loss than he is willing to admit. Whether in his memories, in his work, or in real life, Salvator returns to the people who meant something to him. It is precisely these scenes that are the most intimate and the most moving, and give the film an unusual subtlety. Also worth highlighting are the sets, the play with colours and the way Almodóvar incorporates them into every shot. From the water drawing effect in the opening credits, to the colourful and mottled clothing, to the various mosaics (a blue pool mosaic similar to a kitchen stove). Overall, it is a visual and emotional treat for the soul with a rather surprising ending.

In order to return to writing, which she gave up ten years ago for a career as a psychologist, Sibyl radically reduces her number of patients. She retains, among others, a young and somewhat invasive aspiring actress, Margot, who requires help with a very fundamental life decision. Her inability to act independently leads Sibyl to the film set, where she plays the role of Margot's psychological support and at the same time a communicator in a love triangle between Margot, her acting colleague and the director of the film. But Sibyl herself has to deal with her own demons from the past, which gradually come to the surface through flashbacks. The film is set on the beautiful island of Stromboli, whose smoking volcano is a symbolic harbinger of a possible eruption. The performances of both Virginie Efira and Adèle Exarchopoulos are solid, convincing and moving, but arguably the best tragic-comic outburst of emotion worth seeing comes from Sandra Hüller as the director. Her momentary loss of nerve is one of the few proper comedy scenes a film that is rather dark in its entirety.

Today's hectic times are not for everyone. While Marianne rejects ageing and lives in symbiosis with technological progress, her husband Victor does not understand the modern world, nor does he find meaning or fulfilment in it, but thanks to his son, he gets the chance to return to the past. Don't expect spaceships, light-speed travel to distant dimensions, or star portals. All it takes are sets, precisely instructed actors and a meticulous director who will drive everyone crazy just to ensure the perfect authenticity of the situation and thus your satisfaction. All Victor needs to do is to chose the era and a specific moment, and he chooses a particular week in the 1970s when he met the love of his life, Marianne – he’s going back to his own Belle Époque. The rest is something you should see. The performances cannot fail to entertain – Daniel Auteuil as the likable but jaded Victor, Fanny Ardant as the vivacious and sassy Marianne, Guillaume Canet as the choleric and pedantic director Antoine, and last but not least Doria Tillier as the talented and charming actress Margot, who plays the young Marianne in Victor's Belle Époque. This film overflows with wit, but also a pleasant melancholy, while delivering a great range of emotions as well. Nicolas Bedos has undoubtedly enriched the world of comedy with this novel and fresh premise.

The Swallows of Kabul depicts the injustices and horrors under Taliban rule, and how people behave and change under such a movement and circumstances. The story revolves around two couples, the prison guard Atiq and his dying wife Mussarat represent outdated thinking and conformity. In contrast, the young couple Mohsen and Zunaira represent youth, courage, the desire for change for the better and the longing for freedom – like swallows, beautiful symbolism. In such a cruel world, however, "no sun can resist the night" and no one is entirely blameless, which then triggers the story's central plot. Even pure souls can sometimes slip away, and conversely, lost ones can be found again. This film benefits greatly from its beautiful watercolour animation, it doesn't diminish the cruelty or the seriousness of the action, but it softens exactly what would be too harsh in a feature film.

Deerskin is one of the most unpredictable and wrenching comedies of the year. At first, it looks very understated and chooses a slower pace. The decoration is thoughtfully set in lighter tones of brown, grey and beige, which can look a little bland, but it works perfectly with Dujardin's outfit; we must not forget it, because his jacket is the second main "character" of the film. Their common dream is to be unique, and that's when this supple comedy turns into a chilling and absurdly frantic ride. Gradually a hat, shoes, trousers and gloves join the jacket, and suddenly Dujardin's outfit is downright murderous. Not even Carrie Bradshaw has this much style. Finally, I must not forget to say that I promise never to wear a jacket again in my life...

When was the last time you took a good look at your hands and thought about how essential they are to you? When was the last time you felt grateful for them? Whether you want to use a lighter, ring the doorbell, pat someone on the cheek, unlock your door, wipe your tears... you need hands. After this film, you won't notice anything else for a few days. And that's why I Lost My Body is one of the few understated films I'm grateful for. It is not predictable, it is unconventionally absorbing. It has two intertwined story lines: one is cute, tender and touching, the other is raw and even horrific. They are accompanied by Dan Levy's fantastically haunting and enchanting music, and together, it all makes one big unforgettable must see piece of work.