New Zealand International Film Festival 2026

Whistle:

Directed by Christopher Nelius.

Whistle is an easy ride to get onboard, and I mean that in a good way. It presents a concept that’s strange enough to be intriguing, but presents it in a relatable way – that is, a musical whistling competition with people trying to prove themselves. Believe me when I say you’ll be surprised at how talented some of these people are.

Is it simple? Yeah, sure. Is it manipulative? If you’re a cynic, yes. But it’s a story about people dedicating themselves to their art, how they use art to understand themselves, and how art can bring us together. Isn’t that worth something?

The Wizard of The Kremlin:

Directed by Olivier Assayas.

The Wizard of The Kremlin is a mixed bag. On paper it sounds like a knockout – a historical fiction political thriller “insider” account of Vladimir Putin’s rise, how after the Soviet Union Russia opened up only to slam shut ten years later. But such a fascinating and intriguing premise is squandered on clunky execution. The ideas behind it keep it engaging, but their presentation leaves something to be desired.

The overreliance on dialogue and narration drags the energy down – at worst, it can feel like a Wikipedia article is being read to us, rather than letting us meet the film on its own level. I found the most impactful moments to be the quietest, when the film gets out of its own way. Speaking of effective quietness, Jude Law’s Putin is a revelation. He has few outbursts of anger and raised voices, most of the time simply staring down or blankly, quietly stating something – and it’s magnetic. He perfectly conveys the utter disdain for absolutely everything that’s defined the image of Putin. He does more with a single look than the script does with all its narration.

Another performance I greatly enjoyed was Will Keen as Boris Berezovsky – his slimy, slightly nasal, smooth talking media controller manages to turn the overreliance on dialogue into a character trait, of egoism and the slightest insecurity. His bigger, more theatrical energy perfectly complements Law’s Putin. There’s a short scene with him warning about what Putin represents that stands out as a highlight, for his evident fear and horror at where the country he loves is heading.

Something I did appreciate was how within the first forty minutes, the film emphasises the feeling of opportunity and freedom after the Soviet Union has just collapsed. It feels like there’s so much to be discovered, which makes the gradual backslide into Putin’s autocracy feel all the more tragic. Truth be told, it’s where some of the film’s most moving material comes from.

If you’ve seen the film, you’ll know the final shot – my cinema gasped.

Prosecution:

Directed by Faraz Shariat.

On the way out, one of my audience members said “that was a ripper” – which I think perfectly encapsulates Prosecution.

The closest comparison I can think of it a 1970s, Sidney Lumet man-against-the-system thriller (think Serpico or Prince of The City), yet refreshed for the modern age. The focus on racial violence is deeply discomforting, but at the same time it’s hard to look away. Such a premise could easily be sensationalised and played for righteous indignation, but director Faraz Shariat exercises great restraint. It’s not a vigilante exploitation thriller, it’s a courtroom drama about realising how much of the world is truly against you.

Several courtroom scenes anchor the film’s second half as revelations come to light, and they’re expertly crafted. Brilliant scripting with numerous twists and turns, combined with cinematography that gets right up in the actors’ faces creates scenes of people talking that feel more thrilling than some entire action films.

But for all its strengths, I must confess the final five or so minutes felt more akin to an honest-to-god Batman film setup (Batmobile and everything) – a strange tonal shift which didn’t gel with the rest of the film. That aside, this is a great film I’d highly recommend. Definitely a highlight of my festival run.

Father Mother Sister Brother:

Directed by Jim Jarmusch.

Hoo boy, not my thing.

Three short segments – two of which are family reunions constructed to be as extremely awkward and uncomfortable as humanly possible. Sounds like such a good time, right?

I sort of liked the third segment, purely because it was refreshingly not awkward and tortuous.

To emphasise – really not my thing.

Silent Friend

Directed by Ildikó Enyedi.

American/Hollywood screenwriting advice is always “everything has to mean something”, “maximum effect” and a particularly memorable “plot constructed like an AK-47”. The Europeans don’t give a flying !@#$ about any of that. Who knows what any of this means, or why it’s there? I admire the chutzpah, but I was sitting there completely mystified.

Something about a tree, I think?

Hen:

Directed by György Pálfi.

Taking it as a whole, Hen is somewhat of a remarkable technical achievement. It successfully manages to make us care about a chicken, and through the power of editing tells something of an emotional story with the titular bird. Is that not the power of cinema?

However, the gimmick does begin to distract as the film goes on. The first half is a Chaplin-esque bird on the run story filled with hijinks, but the second tries to be some sort of commentary on the migrant crisis (I think). Once the chicken reaches the abandoned restaurant, the momentum grinds to a halt. There’s some sort of crime drama going on, which the chicken doesn’t need to be there for – hence, the gimmick becomes distracting.

Still, impressive that they pulled this off.

Whispers In The Woods:

Directed by Vincent Munier.

Only the French could make a nature documentary feel like an arthouse indie thing.

Easily my favourite film I saw at the festival. Every few seconds there’s the most stunningly gorgeous natural landscape shot you’ve ever seen, until the next one comes along. It’s endlessly calming – no forced conflicts or anything of the sort, merely hanging out in the forest with a variety of animals for 90 minutes.

Despite being my favourite film of the festival I actually have the least to say about it, other than “it’s gorgeous, it’s calming, I loved it”. Perhaps because it’s an experience to be witnessed, difficult to put into words. So many people in our audience on the way out were saying how beautiful they thought it was.