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An immaculate digital restoration job, including muffle-free audio, silky silver monochrome and original 'pillarbox' framing, adds an unnerving contemporary kick to Fritz Lang's 1931 masterpiece. Detailing the slavering hunt for bug-eyed child murderer Hans Beckert (Peter Lorre) through a dark and hostile, shadow-filled Berlin, this is the original, if not the best, serial killer flick.

An immaculate digital restoration job, including muffle-free audio, silky silver monochrome and original ‘pillarbox’ framing, adds an unnerving contemporary kick to Fritz Lang’s 1931 masterpiece. Detailing the slavering hunt for bug-eyed child murderer Hans Beckert (Peter Lorre) through a dark and hostile, shadow-filled Berlin, this is the original, if not the best, serial killer flick.

Ulzana’s Raid

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Directed by the hugely uncompromising Robert Aldrich, this ferocious post-Wild Bunch western stars Burt Lancaster as a world-weary army scout at odds with callow cavalry officer Bruce Davison on a mission to hunt down the errant Apache chief Ulzana, who with a small band of warriors has broken out of the reservation and are now looting, killing and raping their way across the bleak southwestern territories. Much tampered with by the studio on its original 1972 release and the subject of heated debate about its depiction of the Apaches, the film is in fact both complex and intelligent in its handling of the conflict it describes. Reacting to the saintly portraits of Indian life in films like Little Big Man, Aldrich and his scriptwriter Alan Sharpe are neither idealistic nor patronising, merely harshly realistic and painfully honest in their acknowledgement of the sheer savagery of frontier life, which has brutal parallels with the war America was then waging in Vietnam.

Directed by the hugely uncompromising Robert Aldrich, this ferocious post-Wild Bunch western stars Burt Lancaster as a world-weary army scout at odds with callow cavalry officer Bruce Davison on a mission to hunt down the errant Apache chief Ulzana, who with a small band of warriors has broken out of the reservation and are now looting, killing and raping their way across the bleak southwestern territories.

Much tampered with by the studio on its original 1972 release and the subject of heated debate about its depiction of the Apaches, the film is in fact both complex and intelligent in its handling of the conflict it describes. Reacting to the saintly portraits of Indian life in films like Little Big Man, Aldrich and his scriptwriter Alan Sharpe are neither idealistic nor patronising, merely harshly realistic and painfully honest in their acknowledgement of the sheer savagery of frontier life, which has brutal parallels with the war America was then waging in Vietnam.

Warm Water Under A Red Bridge

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From Shohei Imamura?one of several 'legendary Japanese masters' none of us have ever heard of?comes a genuinely surreal fable of a man searching for hidden treasure who finds a complex erotic gush-out with a lonely young woman who's turned on by water. It's often beautiful to look at, though the orgasmic writhing sections are unintentionally hilarious.

From Shohei Imamura?one of several ‘legendary Japanese masters’ none of us have ever heard of?comes a genuinely surreal fable of a man searching for hidden treasure who finds a complex erotic gush-out with a lonely young woman who’s turned on by water. It’s often beautiful to look at, though the orgasmic writhing sections are unintentionally hilarious.

Intacto

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Potentially ridiculous premise about a cabal of gamblers who harness the power of, er, luck, is admirably sustained by gutsy turns from Leonardo Sbaraglia as a lucky plane crash survivor mentored by lucky earthquake survivor Eusebio Poncela in order to take revenge on casino owner and lucky holocaus...

Potentially ridiculous premise about a cabal of gamblers who harness the power of, er, luck, is admirably sustained by gutsy turns from Leonardo Sbaraglia as a lucky plane crash survivor mentored by lucky earthquake survivor Eusebio Poncela in order to take revenge on casino owner and lucky holocaust survivor Max Von Sydow. Fractured narrative, arty mise-en-sc

Flight Of The Intruder

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Gung-ho navy flyboys Willem Dafoe and Brad Johnson, disillusioned with America's half-hearted prosecution of the war in Vietnam, attempt to hurry the conflict to a conclusion by taking it upon themselves to bomb Hanoi. Hilarious macho nonsense from John Milius at his most demented, in other words.

Gung-ho navy flyboys Willem Dafoe and Brad Johnson, disillusioned with America’s half-hearted prosecution of the war in Vietnam, attempt to hurry the conflict to a conclusion by taking it upon themselves to bomb Hanoi. Hilarious macho nonsense from John Milius at his most demented, in other words.

A Short Film About Killing

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One of the most revered of Krzysztof Kieslowski's "10 commandments" series, the late director's determinedly bleak parable investigates a pointless murder and a lawyer's subsequent near-existential defence. Out the same year ('88) as A Short Film About Love, its intensity made the Polish maestro a global name.

One of the most revered of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s “10 commandments” series, the late director’s determinedly bleak parable investigates a pointless murder and a lawyer’s subsequent near-existential defence. Out the same year (’88) as A Short Film About Love, its intensity made the Polish maestro a global name.

Rambling Rose

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Screenplay by the author Calder Willingham, generic domestics handled by Duvall's Pop and Diane Ladd's Mom, sexual disruptions dispensed by major-outfitted, Oscar-nominated Laura Dern as the teenage housekeeper. Her Rose has an earned rep, but Mom leaps to her defence. Mom's had enough of the South, too. The Button, Lukas Haas, pants and ogles from the sidelines.

Screenplay by the author Calder Willingham, generic domestics handled by Duvall’s Pop and Diane Ladd’s Mom, sexual disruptions dispensed by major-outfitted, Oscar-nominated Laura Dern as the teenage housekeeper. Her Rose has an earned rep, but Mom leaps to her defence. Mom’s had enough of the South, too. The Button, Lukas Haas, pants and ogles from the sidelines.

Pink Floyd—The Dark Side Of The Moon

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The latest in the excellent Classic Albums series turns to the Floyd's masterpiece?and given such dubious contenders as Meat Loaf and Judas Priest have already featured, the surprise is that it's taken this long. The hour-plus documentary follows the familiar mix of archive footage (ranging back to the early days with Syd Barrett) and current interviews, in which David Gilmour in particular comes across as hugely entertaining. And what makes it a classic album? The talking heads conclude it's a combination of the universality of the theme, Gilmour's guitar-playing and the strength of Waters' songwriting before he hit The Wall.

The latest in the excellent Classic Albums series turns to the Floyd’s masterpiece?and given such dubious contenders as Meat Loaf and Judas Priest have already featured, the surprise is that it’s taken this long. The hour-plus documentary follows the familiar mix of archive footage (ranging back to the early days with Syd Barrett) and current interviews, in which David Gilmour in particular comes across as hugely entertaining. And what makes it a classic album? The talking heads conclude it’s a combination of the universality of the theme, Gilmour’s guitar-playing and the strength of Waters’ songwriting before he hit The Wall.

Doves—Where We’re Calling From

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They may not be the most charismatic bunch ever to tread a rock'n'roll stage, but Doves sure know how to put on a fine show. Recorded live in the extraordinary location of the Eden Project in Cornwall during the summer of 2002, the Manchester trio storm through a rousing set of uplifting tunes, in which "Pounding" and "There Goes The Fear", from their latest album, The Last Broadcast, are inevitably the highlights. EXTRAS: Arguably even better than the main feature. A huge array of extras includes a documentary specially filmed for the DVD, a second mini-doc on their ill-fated earlier incarnation as Sub Sub, all the promo videos, hidden tracks, and unseen footage of the Hacienda in all its drug-crazed glory. Rating Star (NW)

They may not be the most charismatic bunch ever to tread a rock’n’roll stage, but Doves sure know how to put on a fine show. Recorded live in the extraordinary location of the Eden Project in Cornwall during the summer of 2002, the Manchester trio storm through a rousing set of uplifting tunes, in which “Pounding” and “There Goes The Fear”, from their latest album, The Last Broadcast, are inevitably the highlights.

EXTRAS: Arguably even better than the main feature. A huge array of extras includes a documentary specially filmed for the DVD, a second mini-doc on their ill-fated earlier incarnation as Sub Sub, all the promo videos, hidden tracks, and unseen footage of the Hacienda in all its drug-crazed glory. Rating Star

(NW)

Can DVD

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Compilation of documentary, videos and live footage marking the 35th anniversary of the Krautrockers. Though their backgrounds were in jazz and classical, they blasted rock into the future via its first principles through repetitive, improvised sessions. This DVD has live material from Cologne and a '76 slot on TOTP playing their one hit, "I Want More". The live footage is irretrievably '70s in its visual mixture of the garish and dismal but the music's way out and beyond. Interviews confirm the cerebral underpinning of this most deceptively primal of bands.

Compilation of documentary, videos and live footage marking the 35th anniversary of the Krautrockers. Though their backgrounds were in jazz and classical, they blasted rock into the future via its first principles through repetitive, improvised sessions. This DVD has live material from Cologne and a ’76 slot on TOTP playing their one hit, “I Want More”. The live footage is irretrievably ’70s in its visual mixture of the garish and dismal but the music’s way out and beyond. Interviews confirm the cerebral underpinning of this most deceptively primal of bands.

Anthem For Doomed Youth

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Between the release of his career-defining performances for director John Sturges in The Magnificent Seven (1960) and The Great Escape (1963), Steve McQueen experimented with his screen persona in three wildly varying military projects. He played a scheming Navy lieutenant-cum-casino thief in comic misfire The Hollywood Machine (1961); a cocky WWII fighter pilot in the underrated, British-made The War Lover (1962) and the ferocious, wild-eyed infantryman Reese in Don Siegel's superlative anti-war classic Hell Is For Heroes (also 1962). One of the first Hollywood-produced combat flicks (alongside Robert Aldrich's earlier Attack) to truly deliver on its promised anti-war message, Hell Is For Heroes was originally crafted as a showcase for the emerging McQueen but ended up becoming far more in the accomplished hands of Siegel. Writer/director Robert Pirosh (who'd won an Oscar for scripting William Wellman's 1949 Battle of the Bulge drama Battleground, and went on to create US TV's classic '60s WWII drama Combat!), based his original script on the true story of seven massively-outnumbered Gls in 1944, ordered to hold their position on the Siegfried Line until reinforcements arrived. After polishing up a final draft (entitled Separation Hill) in consultation with his star, Pirosh shot a week's worth of footage before the ever-capricious McQueen demanded a rewrite that increased his screen time and reduced the importance of Pirosh's ensemble cast, which boasted the cream of Hollywood's young acting talent. Pirosh refused, only to have Paramount kick him off his own flick and replace him with Siegel. Which is the best thing that could have happened to the now-retitled Hell Is For Heroes. Despite Pirosh's pedigree as a writer of war dramas, his slender output as director languishes in justifiable obscurity, with only his remarkable 1951 Japanese-American soldiers-at-war opus Go For Broke! worth seeing, while Siegel was about to kick-start 10 years of unparalleled creativity. Hell Is For Heroes bristles with the snappily-edited emotional urgency honed on B-movie classics like Invasion Of The Body Snatchers and Baby Face Nelson that soon became his trademark. Filmed over several weeks, with the woods of Redding, California standing in for wartime France, Siegel's movie takes place over 48 desperate hours as the men of 2nd Squad find themselves reassigned to the Siegfried Line. Joined by the insubordinate, battle-scarred Private Reese, no amount of well-drilled discipline or jovial bonhomie can disguise the lone squad's sense of doom. They're dead and they know it. Despite Siegel and rewrite man Richard Carr's brief to big up McQueen, Hell Is For Heroes works precisely because Siegel, ever the wily professional, was able to placate his needy star and stay true to Pirosh's ensemble vision. Sure enough, McQueen's mesmerising, as he always was with the right director. Sporting a scrubby beard and a snarling fuck-you attitude, he's a killer defined by war, living for combat and left incapable of forming human relationships. McQueen may be the undoubted star, but Siegel serves all his cast well. The film is stuffed with deadly-earnest performances, most of which serve to accentuate the random, ever-present carnage. From James Coburn's wry, fatalistic mechanic Henshaw to Mike Kellin's displaced family man Kolinski and Harry Guardino's raging Sgt Larkin, Siegel takes the usual Hollywood GI stereotypes and relentlessly subverts them. Comic relief is briefly supplied by hustling Private Corby (played so well by ailing Vegas crooner Bobby Darin that you wish he'd devoted his short life to movies rather than lounge-core classics) and green-as-they-come decoy Private Driscoll (first-time actor Bob Newhart, cleverly riffing on his classic man-on-the-phone comedy routines). But even their light-hearted schtick ends in sober desperation as Siegel delivers a bleak monochrome vision of the European theatre at its most unforgiving. This slice of cinematic combat wouldn't be matched for intensity until Saving Private Ryan almost 40 years later. Even then, Spielberg couldn't resist a climactic blaze of flag-waving optimism. No such conclusion for Siegel, ever the dark-hearted nihilist. Hell Is For Heroes ends with 2nd Squad decimated, their sacrifice instantly forgotten as the battle rages heedlessly on and Siegel's camera zooms in on the unimpressive lone pillbox they've sacrificed everything to destroy. War is hell. DVD EXTRAS: None.

Between the release of his career-defining performances for director John Sturges in The Magnificent Seven (1960) and The Great Escape (1963), Steve McQueen experimented with his screen persona in three wildly varying military projects. He played a scheming Navy lieutenant-cum-casino thief in comic misfire The Hollywood Machine (1961); a cocky WWII fighter pilot in the underrated, British-made The War Lover (1962) and the ferocious, wild-eyed infantryman Reese in Don Siegel’s superlative anti-war classic Hell Is For Heroes (also 1962).

One of the first Hollywood-produced combat flicks (alongside Robert Aldrich’s earlier Attack) to truly deliver on its promised anti-war message, Hell Is For Heroes was originally crafted as a showcase for the emerging McQueen but ended up becoming far more in the accomplished hands of Siegel.

Writer/director Robert Pirosh (who’d won an Oscar for scripting William Wellman’s 1949 Battle of the Bulge drama Battleground, and went on to create US TV’s classic ’60s WWII drama Combat!), based his original script on the true story of seven massively-outnumbered Gls in 1944, ordered to hold their position on the Siegfried Line until reinforcements arrived.

After polishing up a final draft (entitled Separation Hill) in consultation with his star, Pirosh shot a week’s worth of footage before the ever-capricious McQueen demanded a rewrite that increased his screen time and reduced the importance of Pirosh’s ensemble cast, which boasted the cream of Hollywood’s young acting talent. Pirosh refused, only to have Paramount kick him off his own flick and replace him with Siegel.

Which is the best thing that could have happened to the now-retitled Hell Is For Heroes. Despite Pirosh’s pedigree as a writer of war dramas, his slender output as director languishes in justifiable obscurity, with only his remarkable 1951 Japanese-American soldiers-at-war opus Go For Broke! worth seeing, while Siegel was about to kick-start 10 years of unparalleled creativity. Hell Is For Heroes bristles with the snappily-edited emotional urgency honed on B-movie classics like Invasion Of The Body Snatchers and Baby Face Nelson that soon became his trademark.

Filmed over several weeks, with the woods of Redding, California standing in for wartime France, Siegel’s movie takes place over 48 desperate hours as the men of 2nd Squad find themselves reassigned to the Siegfried Line. Joined by the insubordinate, battle-scarred Private Reese, no amount of well-drilled discipline or jovial bonhomie can disguise the lone squad’s sense of doom. They’re dead and they know it.

Despite Siegel and rewrite man Richard Carr’s brief to big up McQueen, Hell Is For Heroes works precisely because Siegel, ever the wily professional, was able to placate his needy star and stay true to Pirosh’s ensemble vision.

Sure enough, McQueen’s mesmerising, as he always was with the right director. Sporting a scrubby beard and a snarling fuck-you attitude, he’s a killer defined by war, living for combat and left incapable of forming human relationships.

McQueen may be the undoubted star, but Siegel serves all his cast well. The film is stuffed with deadly-earnest performances, most of which serve to accentuate the random, ever-present carnage. From James Coburn’s wry, fatalistic mechanic Henshaw to Mike Kellin’s displaced family man Kolinski and Harry Guardino’s raging Sgt Larkin, Siegel takes the usual Hollywood GI stereotypes and relentlessly subverts them.

Comic relief is briefly supplied by hustling Private Corby (played so well by ailing Vegas crooner Bobby Darin that you wish he’d devoted his short life to movies rather than lounge-core classics) and green-as-they-come decoy Private Driscoll (first-time actor Bob Newhart, cleverly riffing on his classic man-on-the-phone comedy routines). But even their light-hearted schtick ends in sober desperation as Siegel delivers a bleak monochrome vision of the European theatre at its most unforgiving. This slice of cinematic combat wouldn’t be matched for intensity until Saving Private Ryan almost 40 years later. Even then, Spielberg couldn’t resist a climactic blaze of flag-waving optimism.

No such conclusion for Siegel, ever the dark-hearted nihilist. Hell Is For Heroes ends with 2nd Squad decimated, their sacrifice instantly forgotten as the battle rages heedlessly on and Siegel’s camera zooms in on the unimpressive lone pillbox they’ve sacrificed everything to destroy. War is hell.

DVD EXTRAS: None.

Shane

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The definitive Hollywood western, George Stevens' Shane has inimitable narrative momentum, rolling effortlessly from the introduction of Alan Ladd's buckskin dandy to the initial saloon tensions ("You talking to me?") and the epic punch-up, through the homesteader murder and the final confrontation with Jack Palance's beguiling assassin. Magnificent.

The definitive Hollywood western, George Stevens’ Shane has inimitable narrative momentum, rolling effortlessly from the introduction of Alan Ladd’s buckskin dandy to the initial saloon tensions (“You talking to me?”) and the epic punch-up, through the homesteader murder and the final confrontation with Jack Palance’s beguiling assassin. Magnificent.

The Heroes Of Telemark

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Cracking old-school account of the Norwegian resistance's WWII attempts to destroy the Nazi factory responsible for developing Germany's atom bomb. Rousingly directed by Anthony Mann with the visual sweep typical of all his later productions (EI Cid, the first hour of Spartacus). Watch out for the curious sight of Kirk Douglas, in his prime here, acting brooding hambone Richard Harris off the screen.

Cracking old-school account of the Norwegian resistance’s WWII attempts to destroy the Nazi factory responsible for developing Germany’s atom bomb. Rousingly directed by Anthony Mann with the visual sweep typical of all his later productions (EI Cid, the first hour of Spartacus). Watch out for the curious sight of Kirk Douglas, in his prime here, acting brooding hambone Richard Harris off the screen.

The Desperate Hours

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William Wyler's 1955 suspense classic, later remade by Michael Cimino, finds Humphrey Bogart frowning and sweating as only he can (in a role first played on stage by Paul Newman). Three on-the-run cons hold a family hostage in their home, but after plenty of mind games, the suburbanites outfox them. Humph had done it better in Key Largo, but it still crackles gamely.

William Wyler’s 1955 suspense classic, later remade by Michael Cimino, finds Humphrey Bogart frowning and sweating as only he can (in a role first played on stage by Paul Newman). Three on-the-run cons hold a family hostage in their home, but after plenty of mind games, the suburbanites outfox them. Humph had done it better in Key Largo, but it still crackles gamely.

The Matrix Reloaded

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Taking apart their original monster hit, piecemeal, including smart cod-philosophy, brain-teasing story-twists, set-piece kung fu spectaculars and final-reel resurrections, and then reassembling it with a much bigger budget and a greater dollop of hubris, the Wachowski brothers here prove that limitless resources plus final cut can be a volatile mix.

Taking apart their original monster hit, piecemeal, including smart cod-philosophy, brain-teasing story-twists, set-piece kung fu spectaculars and final-reel resurrections, and then reassembling it with a much bigger budget and a greater dollop of hubris, the Wachowski brothers here prove that limitless resources plus final cut can be a volatile mix.

The Omega Man

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Charlton Heston plays the Last Man On Earth after everybody else has been transformed by a plague into albino vampires in this so-so adaptation of Richard Matheson's novel I Am Legend. Some nice post-apocalyptic moments in the first half, but the vampires really aren't scary enough and the allegorical ending is on a par with a flying mallet. Disappointing.

Charlton Heston plays the Last Man On Earth after everybody else has been transformed by a plague into albino vampires in this so-so adaptation of Richard Matheson’s novel I Am Legend. Some nice post-apocalyptic moments in the first half, but the vampires really aren’t scary enough and the allegorical ending is on a par with a flying mallet. Disappointing.

Dark Blue

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Tough thriller from director Ron Shelton based on a James Ellroy story. Kurt Russell is outstanding as veteran bad-ass Los Angeles cop Eldon Perry, who realises too late the waste he has made of his life. Great support from Brendan Gleeson as his malignant boss and Ving Rhames as the upright officer dedicated to bringing him down.

Tough thriller from director Ron Shelton based on a James Ellroy story. Kurt Russell is outstanding as veteran bad-ass Los Angeles cop Eldon Perry, who realises too late the waste he has made of his life. Great support from Brendan Gleeson as his malignant boss and Ving Rhames as the upright officer dedicated to bringing him down.

Girl On A Motorcycle

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Originally released in 1968 as Naked Under Leather, this infamous Marianne Faithfull fantasy is more legendary than it is actually any good. A bored small-town wife speeds off on her Harley Davidson to romp around with the Alain Delon of her imagination. An amusing piece of kitsch, bizarrely helmed by iconic cameraman Jack Cardiff. Had they spiked his tea?

Originally released in 1968 as Naked Under Leather, this infamous Marianne Faithfull fantasy is more legendary than it is actually any good. A bored small-town wife speeds off on her Harley Davidson to romp around with the Alain Delon of her imagination. An amusing piece of kitsch, bizarrely helmed by iconic cameraman Jack Cardiff. Had they spiked his tea?

To Joy

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Ingmar Bergman's early films are often passed over. To Joy (1950) has hardly been seen in the UK, but it's highly personal, autobiographical even, totally involving, moving, and its theme of marital disharmony runs through much of his mature work. Marta and Stig meet, marry, he cheats, they reunite....

Ingmar Bergman’s early films are often passed over. To Joy (1950) has hardly been seen in the UK, but it’s highly personal, autobiographical even, totally involving, moving, and its theme of marital disharmony runs through much of his mature work. Marta and Stig meet, marry, he cheats, they reunite. Victor Sj

Teenage Wasteland

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From those opening apocalyptic chords by industrial metal-heads Rammstein, as director Moodysson's free-wheeling camera chases down a bruised and battered teenage girl stumbling through a bleak, formless cityscape, Lilya 4-Ever reveals itself as a dogged hunt, a pummelling pursuit. And here before us is our exhausted quarry. Flashback to three months earlier, and the movie roughly grabs the pristine Lilya (Oksana Akinshina), quietly ecstatic, packing her bags, about to depart the drab, punishing former Soviet Union with her mother for America, and pitches her headlong down an interminable and hellish narrative staircase, hitting a world of pain with every bump. Her mother leaves without her. Bump. She's evicted from her flat, flakes out of school, runs out of money, becomes a prostitute, gets beaten, gang-raped, bump bump, and is finally sold by her scheming lothario into the Swedish sex trade! This unflinchingly sadistic narrative trajectory simply shouldn't work. There's little dramatic ebb and flow here. And yet, thanks to Moodysson's genius casting and careful writing, the descent is as harrowing as it is relentless. There's a hidden nobility behind Akinshina's increasingly puffed Slavic eyes and soft girlish dimples, and a morality in her actions (she throws away 'dirty' money) that we latch onto for dear life. She displays foolhardy optimism (by trusting her slippery boyfriend against her better instincts) because it's the only thing that can save her from a life of ruination. That it doesn't, in the end, is what ultimately makes the movie so disturbing.

From those opening apocalyptic chords by industrial metal-heads Rammstein, as director Moodysson’s free-wheeling camera chases down a bruised and battered teenage girl stumbling through a bleak, formless cityscape, Lilya 4-Ever reveals itself as a dogged hunt, a pummelling pursuit. And here before us is our exhausted quarry.

Flashback to three months earlier, and the movie roughly grabs the pristine Lilya (Oksana Akinshina), quietly ecstatic, packing her bags, about to depart the drab, punishing former Soviet Union with her mother for America, and pitches her headlong down an interminable and hellish narrative staircase, hitting a world of pain with every bump. Her mother leaves without her. Bump. She’s evicted from her flat, flakes out of school, runs out of money, becomes a prostitute, gets beaten, gang-raped, bump bump, and is finally sold by her scheming lothario into the Swedish sex trade!

This unflinchingly sadistic narrative trajectory simply shouldn’t work. There’s little dramatic ebb and flow here. And yet, thanks to Moodysson’s genius casting and careful writing, the descent is as harrowing as it is relentless. There’s a hidden nobility behind Akinshina’s increasingly puffed Slavic eyes and soft girlish dimples, and a morality in her actions (she throws away ‘dirty’ money) that we latch onto for dear life. She displays foolhardy optimism (by trusting her slippery boyfriend against her better instincts) because it’s the only thing that can save her from a life of ruination. That it doesn’t, in the end, is what ultimately makes the movie so disturbing.