‘My Favourite Cake’ Review: A Romantic Confection That Rises Sweetly, Until It Crumbles

Kristen Stewart is in Berlin this weekend for the international premiere of her lesbian crime-thriller Love Lies Bleeding.

Ellise Shafer At the Berlin Film Festival press conference for her new film “Love Lies Bleeding,” Kristen Stewart said she thinks the era of queer films “being so pointedly only that is done,” adding that it’s time for films to focus on “sidelined perspectives” while “not making it all about the reasons that they’re sidelined.” “Love Lies Bleeding” stars Stewart as reclusive gym manager Lou, who “falls hard for Jackie (Katy O’Brian), an ambitious bodybuilder headed through town to Las Vegas in pursuit of her dream,” the film’s synopsis reads. “But their love ignites violence, pulling them deep into the web of Lou’s criminal family.” When asked if filming the gory and twist-filled “Love Lies Bleeding” had changed her perspective on how queer stories are centered in cinema, Stewart sounded off on the topic.

Gary Barlow has expressed his desire to use VR in future Take That shows.In a new interview with The Sunday Mirror, Barlow admitted he was inspired by the recent U2 show at The Sphere, and wanted to incorporate its high-end technology into Take That shows. The band are preparing to embark on their UK and Ireland tour, with Olly Murs as a support act.Barlow said: “When the screen came on, 18,000 people breathed in.

Leo Barraclough International Features Editor In Christine Angot‘s documentary “A Family,” which premieres Sunday in the Encounters section of the Berlin Film Festival, the French novelist explores how various members of her family reacted to the revelation that she was repeatedly raped by her father from the age of 13. The film starts with a startling confrontation between Angot and her stepmother in Strasbourg, with Angot pushing her way into her stepmother’s apartment with a camera-person and proceeding to question the woman about Angot’s late father’s crimes and the wife’s view on that. Angot says that this incident was not planned at all.

There is a sense of a running gag in Hors du Temps (renamed Suspended Time for the English-language market). In his complex, autofictional 2022 TV series Irma Vep, Olivier Assayas cast as the director of a film called Irma Vep — a film he had, in fact, made in real life 20 years earlier — the actor Vincent Macaigne, who cheekily developed a version of Assayas that not only picked up on his distinctively reedy voice, but also nobbled his quirky irritability and sensitivities.

Sal (Gael García Bernal) exists in a limbo — not the religious notion of a space between life and death, but a nonspace. He lives in a large apartment but appears to have no job or vocation.

When Australian writer Lily Brett published her novel Too Many Men in 2001, critics marvelled at the light, comic tone she had managed to strike in a novel about the lasting impact of the Holocaust, passed down from one generation to the next. Families have their customary jokes; they squabble over the dinner table; they may be funny characters but, underneath it all, there is a consciousness of pain. That’s not an easy balance to strike, as a writer or as an actor.

What would you do if you could extend loved ones’ lives through their memories?

Jessica Kiang It’s ironic that memory is the central theme of Piero Messina‘s Berlin Competition title “Another End,” when so many of its twists and turns are so directly lifted from other films that it feels like you’ve seen them before; even watching it for the first time feels like rewatching. But if that makes this elegiac literalization of the timeless theme of “what is grief but love persevering?” a rather edgeless experience it’s not a wholly unpleasant one.

Something eerie is afoot in the small Irish town of Wexford, where coal merchant Bill Furlong (Cillian Murphy) raises five young daughters alongside his wife, Eileen (Eileen Walsh). It’s Christmastime 1985, the busiest time of the year for the Furlong family business, but Bill is not feeling like himself.

Catherine Bray Two years after their Berlinale prizewinner “Rabiye Kurnaz vs. George W. Bush,” veteran German director Andreas Dresen and his regular screenwriter Laila Stieler reteam for the moving drama “From Hilde, With Love.” Drawing on the compelling real-life case of the Hilde and Hans Coppi, a young married couple arrested and executed for treason by the Gestapo in wartime Berlin, the film cross-cuts between an idyllic summer romance and much darker later events.

“This is a very, very romantic film,” Gael García Bernal said of his Berlin competition title, Another End. 

K.J. Yossman Stephen Fry has been described as a “quintessential Englishman” and, thanks to his Cambridge University degree and roles in films such as “Gosford Park” and “Wilde,” he’s got a resumé to prove it. But it turns out his latest role, as Polish Holocaust survivor Edek in the upcoming feature “Treasure,” is closer to home.

Christopher Vourlias A lonely widower wrestling with the loss of his wife finds himself in the thralls of a mental health crisis, setting the stage for a moving tale of grief and acceptance in Mamadou Dia’s “Demba,” which premieres Feb. 17 in the Encounters section at the Berlin Film Festival. “Demba” follows its titular protagonist, an archivist in a provincial Senegalese town being nudged toward an early retirement after nearly 30 years in the civil service.

Grief is a concept that everyone with a heart can relate to, but it’s not always something that everyone with a brain can deal with. Riffing on Jean Cocteau’s 1950 classic Orphée and giving it a very modern makeover, French writer-director Jérémy Clapin explores that very paradox with Meanwhile on Earth, a strange, poetic, and endearingly surreal meditation on the counterintuitive ways in which we react when confronted with loss.

Labyrinthine corridors connect the sprawling worlds within The Grill, a traditional eatery by the hustle and bustle of Times Square in “La Cocina.” Open one door, and you are in the kitchen, a boiler room of rage and frustration tamed only by the often frail bonds of camaraderie; turn a corner, and you’re spat straight onto the busy restaurant floor, where waitresses in matching outfits move like a ballet between tables occupied with birthday boys and men as foreign to politeness as hawks are to the sea.

Everyone knows that hotels — preferably isolated, ideally with very few guests — make the best settings for horror films. All that sad anonymity, all that provisional space ready to be filled with something really nasty. In Cuckoo, Alpenplatz, run by the excessively friendly Mr Konig (Dan Stevens) totally fits the bill.

Jessica Kiang The kids in Ilkay Idiskut’s third grade class are, as they let you know within about five minutes of Ruth Beckermann‘s delightful Berlin Encounters documentary “Favoriten,” very much their own people. These 25 boisterous, funny, clattering seven-year-olds attend the largest elementary school in Vienna and for the most part hail from migrant family backgrounds from Turkey or Syria or Serbia. Diminutive in form but outsized in personality, they are also, however, eminently recognisable and relatable, and you can find all the various versions of your own grade-school self in one or other of them at some point.

Iranian filmmakers Behtash Sanaeeha and Maryam Moghadam’s new feature My Favourite Cake world premieres at the Berlinale on Friday but the directors are not at the festival having been slapped with a travel ban by Iran’s authoritarian Islamic Republic regime.

Ellise Shafer Directors Maryam Moghaddam and Behtash Sanaeeh were banned by Iranian authorities from traveling to this year’s Berlin Film Festival, where their film “My Favourite Cake” is premiering in competition. At the film’s press conference on Friday morning, actors Lily Farhadpour and Esmail Mehrabi delivered a powerful message from the directors in the form of a letter as a photo of the two was propped up besides their empty seats. “Today, a film which we have spent three years of our lives making will be shown here, unfortunately, without our presence.