Clouds Of Sils Maria

Clouds Of Sils Maria stars an actor acting as an actor acting as a character who is basically herself (Juliette Binoche), an actor acting as an actor's PA who also acts as an actor when the action requires it (Kristen Stewart), and an actor acting as an actor who's a version of a real-life actor and who acts as Binoche's character's character's PA in the final act (Chloë Moretz). If you're heavily into actors and acting, then good news! Your film of the year has arrived.

For everyone else, this is an adequate if prickly affair in which it's hard to empathise with or care about any of the characters and their actorly problems: Binoche's Maria has a fragile ego on the verge of shattering when she has to play a part she doesn't want to because it's a bit close to home; Stewart's Val is a movie star's assistant with an overly distracting habit of nudging her hipster specs back up her own movie star nose, and Moretz's Jo-Ann is a Lohanesque starlet beset by paparazzi thanks to various attention-seeking episodes. Boo, and indeed, hoo. It's not that writer / director Olivier Assayas particularly wants you to like his characters, but the situation in which he places them is such a transparent vehicle for them to sink further into self-absorption that you'd happily leave them all playing to an empty house, safe in the knowledge they wouldn't even notice.

Professional and personal jealousy, a fear of youth and ageing, the blurring of fantasy and reality and a hint of confused sexuality are all potential themes here, but none are explored to a satisfactory degree. Stewart stands out as the one most capable of reading Assayas' pointed dialogue with the most naturalism, while Binoche serves largely to remind audiences of her previous, more subtle stint playing roles within a role in Michael Haneke's Code Unknown. Clouds Of Sils Maria teases a character study worthy of her talents, but is too busy ramming its point home to allow a more satisfying story to flourish.

Four films I'll be giving a shit about in

CLOUDS OF SILS MARIA

Kristen Stewart's glasses cause me to twitch so violently that I pull a sternocleidomastoid muscle, but by all accounts this meaty-looking drama is worth a week or two in a neck brace. Also, Binoche vs Moretz > Iron Man vs Hulk. (15th)

MAD MAX: FURY ROAD

If this can sustain the insanity of its trailers over the entire running time I'll be a) amazed and b) exhausted, but it is at least a remake that's not unwelcome: Mel Gibson's Mad Max trilogy only escapes being the worst thing on his filmography thanks to the overwhelming stench of The Expendables 3. (15th)

THE TRIBE

Told entirely in sign language and without subtitles, The Tribe is effectively a modern-day silent film. Comparisons to The Artist have been strangely absent though, almost as if this isn't a whimsical, delightful love story with a tinkly piano theme and a cute dog. Holding out hope that it at least has one show-stopping tap dance. (15th)

TOMORROWLAND: A WORLD BEYOND

I am drawn to the work of Damon Lindelof like an idiot moth to a high-concept, badly-written flame, so I will approach this with some degree of caution. That degree of caution, however, is almost entirely cancelled out by the presence of Brad Bird and The Cloon, so fuck it, bring it on. (22nd)