Berlinale: Ayer no termina nunca (Yesterday Never Ends) / Pardé (Closed Curtain)

It's a chore to sit through Spanish director Isabel Coixet's "Ayer no termina nunca (Yesterday Never Ends)", a feature film constructed almost entirely upon dialogue between two grieving parents on the anniversary of their son's death. Even though the two main characters are constantly talking, the confinement of space and monotony of their interaction lend it the air of a piece of silent performance art that's delicate but quietly oppressing. Both Javier Cámara and Candela Peña are fully committed to their roles and in the few scenes where the camera wanders off their faces to observe bright open sky or dreary rainwater trails, the work of a great cinematographer is on ample display, but as a whole, this movie tests the patience of the audience much more than it rewards them with anything substantial.

Iranian competition entry "Pardé (Closed Curtain)" has an intriguing premise, using a secluded house as stage, pitting a writer of his own story against mysterious intruders who may or may not be figments of his imagination. When the director Jafar Panahi himself drops in, boundaries between fictional film and documentary, reality and projection get all but obliterated. This potentially explosive idea sadly didn't get the treatment it deserves, the script feels hollow despite all the tricks on perception it plays and the direction too slack. In the end, this movie remains mostly a rigorous formal exercise without real impact, intellectual or emotional.

Berlinale: Gloria / Pozitia Copilului (Child's Pose)

Two competition titles featuring central female characters showcase superb performances by veteran actresses.

Chilean director Sebastián Lelio's "Gloria" starts off a bit shakily, meanders here and there, but gradully grows into a fascinating character study of a woman fighting for happiness late in her life. As the chain-smoking, booze-downing, trigger-happy sexy grandma rocking a pair of retro-glasses, Paulina Garcia is absolutely glorious. In the bitterly funny last act when she finally sees, decides to drop the specs and sway blindly on the dancefloor, it's hard not to cheer.

Romanian director Calin Peter Netzer's "Pozitia Copilului (Child's Pose)" starts out strongly with a bad-ass opening scene and promises of severe social critique plus nasty parenting tips, but dissolves slowly into mushy repentance drama, losing all that sharp angle and wicked tone. As the vehement, scheming mom with a penchant for suffocating his grown-up son with incestuous affection, though, Luminita Gheorghiu is equal parts intimidating, pitiful, loving and perverse, not an easy feat to pull off.

Berlinale: Before Midnight

Writer/director Richard Linklater reunites with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy for a third time in "Before Midnight", again taking viewers along on a summer stroll with Jesse and Celine as they talk, joke, argue about the trivia of the world and of the heart.

The epic long takes, ceaseless conversations and picturesque European backdrop (this time provided by the Peloponnese peninsula in Greece) feel familiar but the protagonists' circumstances are VERY different, which is why one should be prepared for a narrative tone that's consierably removed from that of the first two films. Both lead actors gave impressive, beautifully lived-in performances; even when certain parts of their debates felt forced, it's a delight just to witness the spontaneity with which they portrayed these two characters we've come to know over the years.

Reaction to this movie will ultimately depend on how one relates to the new stage in life it depicts. But in any event, it's a rare cinematic achievement to chronicle the evolution of a relationship spanning nearly two decades. Indeed, the greatest gift of this trilogy is probably the invitation it extends to us to ruminate on time, the time lost and found, wasted and treasured, missed and dreaded.

Berlinale: Top of the Lake

Watching Jane Campion's mini-series "Top of the Lake" is a frustrating (and as a 6-hour movie marathon physically demanding) experience. Sizeable tension and good suspense is built towards the middle of the 6-part feature, but it takes quite a while for the story to get a firm grip on its tone and rhythm, before the whole thing finally peters out with a whimper.

The cast does a fine job with what it's given to do. Elisabeth Moss is quietly affecting as the police officer on a mission, especially when the hard shell of her character's composure breaks away. Robyn Malcolm provides strong comedic relief, even if I'm not sure whether all those laughs do this crime series favors. Ditto veteran thespians Peter Mullan and Holly Hunter, both convincing in their performances despite having to portray characters leaning toward the zany side. The sprawling landscape of New Zealand with its endless mountain ridge and water bodies offers the best visual representation of mystery and the unknowable, too bad the writer of this missing-child/ small-town-criminality/ police drama didn't come up with much more than an enticing hook to warrant all this scenic wonder.

Berlinale: W imię...(In the Name of) / 明天記得愛上我 (Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?)

Polish competition title "W imię...(In the Name of)" by director Małgośka Szumowska is skillfully shot, tracing swift movements and capturing fleeting sensations with fluidity and aesthetic assurance. Sadly the taboo-drama is direly underwritten, failing to establish palpable struggle of or emotional association with the characters. The editing is especially patchy, chopping off many scenes before any dramatic potential could be realized.

Taiwanese director Arvin Chen's "明天記得愛上我 (Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?)" is a sweet pop-tart of a movie with a happy ending you can spot from miles away. All predictability aside, the script offers high entertainment value while poking at issues of sexuality, marriage, commitment; together with the vibrant colors, a swirling jazzy soundtrack and elements of magical realism lending modern-day Taipei an endearing whim, it led to a romantic comedy that's perhaps too easily digestible, but nonetheless thoroughly enjoyable.

Berlinale: 一代宗師 (The Grandmaster)

The various storylines in Wong Kar-Wai's "一代宗師 (The Grandmaster)" don't necessarily make an organic whole, the bumpy cuts from one to another often compromise the flow of the narrative, a problem most acutely felt in the last part of the movie. Add to that some miscues in music choice, and people might start calling this a minor-Wong.

Visually, though, WKW proves he's still the irrefutable grandmaster of style, here staging breathtaking fights and observing gorgeous period details in exquisitely lit spaces, plunging the audience in stunning vistas from start to finish. As to the complaints about excessive use of slo-mo, moi thinks the director and his editing team actually managed to find the tricky balance for the many action sequences, allowing the change in speed, angles, distance to underscore the physicality, seismic force and balletic grace unique to martial arts, never missing the grandeur or the intimacy of the battle.

Both lead actors are outstanding, Zhang Ziyi shows tremendous poise and exercises great restraint, using the merest sneers and unwavering gaze to convey the resolve and inner turmoils of the heroine. Tony Leung delivers an even more fully internalized performance, acting at times solely on the strength of the slightest twitch of a muscle or every emotion left unexpressed yet commanding the entire screen with the weight of his focus and his sheer presence. Now THAT is what I call a movie star.

Berlinale: Chemi sabnis nahetsi (A Fold in My Blanket)

There are individual frames or sequences in Zaza Rusadze's debut film "Chemi sabnis nahetsi (A Fold in My Blanket)" that scream Lynchian creepy beauty with surrealist composition, saturated colors and jagged sound. These occasional bursts of delicious madness can't hide the fact that the story doesn't make sense and the exasperatingly confusing dialogue isn't really clever, but suggest a discerning eye of the young Georgian director for the unconventional and unsettling.