Review: 'Take Shelter', a film by Jeff Nichols (****)

There is a key scene somewhere in the middle of Take Shelter, Jeff Nichol's impressive sophomore film, in which the premonitory dreams and apocalyptic visions which plague Curtis, the character played otherwise with arresting constraint by Michael Shannon, materialize in a full-fledged explosion. The paroxysm of the scene is all the more powerful because of the humble cosiness of the rural community dinner in which it takes place. When the storm of this truly disturbing sequence is over, there is no chance left for any calm. The director abruptly cuts to a close-up of Jessica Chastain's face, a shot which justifies on its own the award attention that this wonderful young actress has been gathering for the trillion films she was in last year. Her expression is revelatory of what words could never convey: the horrific realization of what really is going on there.

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Review: 'The Iron Lady', a film by Phyllida Lloyd (*1/2)

It is indicative of the The Iron Lady's own weaknesses and of the self-consciousness with which the film's creators approach its subject-matter that director Phyllida Lloyd and leading lady Meryl Streep have been announcing to all and sundry that their film is not a biopic of Margaret Thatcher. The statement is in itself highly questionable, for a film that revisits the life of a public person from their youth to old age must necessarily be a biopic, just as a film where the characters momentarily abandon the storyline to sing songs is a musical or an account of a young man's day on the beaches of Normandy on June 6, 1944 is a war drama.

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Review: Voice Over, a short film by Martín Rosete

It is hard to predict at the beginning of Voice Over that the narrative of this formally exciting 10-minute film will take us from an unknown planet where an astronaut has crash landed his ship to a peacefully idyllic scene of first love with a French Eurovision Song Contest entry as background music, with intermediate stops in a WWI battle field and an undefined subaquatic landscape. Or maybe not, since the man at the helm of this project is the filmmaker that, for his award-winning 2002 film debut Revolución, chose to adapt a text by Sławomir Mrożek, the Polish author famous for the use of distortion, historical references and non-realistic elements in his work.

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San Sebastian 2011 review: 'Le Skylab' by Julie Delpy (***1/2) and 'Take This Waltz' by Sarah Polley (*1/2)

It is hard not to draw comparisons between Julie Delpy and Sarah Polley, who have presented in consecutive days their latest films Le Skylab and Take This Waltz here at the San Sebastian Film Festival's competition strand.

Born to show business families, they both enjoyed successful careers as child actresses, then went on to work with some of the world's most acclaimed filmmakers (Delpy with Bernard Tavernier, Agnieszka Holland or Krzysztof Kieslowski; Polley, with Atom Egoyan or David Cronenberg) before making up their minds to write and direct their own movies and gaining international recognition for that work, including Oscar nominations in a discipline, writing, nobody would have predicted when Oscar buzz first started to purr around their names for their performances in Kieslowski's White and Egoyan's The Sweet Hereafter. (Julie Delpy shared a Best Original Screenplay Oscar nod with Before Sunset director Richard Linklater and co-star Ethan Hawke in 2005, while Sarah Polley was nominated in the Best Adapted Screenplay category for her film debut Away From Her in 2007).

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San Sebastian 2011 review: 'Albert Nobbs', a film by Rodrigo García (**)

The key to the success of any film ascribed to the cross-dressing subgenre is whether the central performance is able to create an autonomous character who can live beyond the limitations of the gender gimmick. Sadly, Glenn Close's commendable effort to inhabit the character of Albert Nobbs, a woman dressed as a man to make a living as a waiter in 19th Century Ireland, completely fails to do so, for it has nothing more going for it than its gimmick. Not once during the almost two hours of this overlong, stagy rendering of George Moore's short story does the viewer (at least the one writing this review) have the impression to be watching anything else than a hugely popular actress, with coincidentally androgynous looks, dressed in drag for the sake of self-important farce.

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