European Film

Best European Films

From Alfred Hitchcock to Federico Fellini and Ingmar Bergman to Jean-Luc Godard, Europe has birthed many of film’s greatest innovators. And that’s just to name a few. The more you dig into the world of European film, the more and more gems you find. Scroll down to find the best European films currently reviewed on FilmRoot, or pick a country if you know what you’re after:

Albania, Andorra, Austria, Belarus, Belgium, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Greenland, Hungary, Iceland, Ireland, Italy, Kosovo, Latvia, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Luxembourg, North Macedonia, Malta, Moldova, Monaco, Montenegro, Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Russia, San Marino, Serbia, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, Ukraine, United Kingdom

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10 European Films You Need to Watch Right Now

Here’s 10 European films you need to watch!

You’ve probably seen a load of Hollywood movies, but how many European films have you seen? Here’s a countdown of 10 of the best European films ever made.

10. Ali: Fear Eats the Soul

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul is one of Fassbinder’s greats. It examines racism and prejudice in Germany 20 years after the fall of Hitler and the Nazis. The film is currently available to watch on YouTube (click on link).

9. Volver

Pedro Almodovar is the don of modern Spanish cinema and Volver is my pick for his best film. For more Almodovar make sure you check out All About my Mother and Talk to Her as well.

8. Leviathan

Leviathan is an epic. Zvyagintsev’s portrait of contemporary Russia draws on biblical stories and a small American business owner to emphasise the state’s disregard for it’s citizens.

7. Edvard Munch

Edvard Munch has style. It’s not like any documentary you’ve seen before as scenes from Munch’s life are reenacted by a full cast.

6. The Great Beauty

The Great Beauty is Sorrentino’s tribute to Fellini’s La Dolce Vita. So much so it feels like an update of the classic – a contemporary ode to the city of Rome.

5. Ex Machina

Yes! One of the best Sci-Fi movies of this century is European. If you’ve already seen this and are after something different check out Under the Skin.

4. Persona

Ingmar Bergman is a Top 5 European director of all time. And if you want to be a film expert Persona is your holy grail. It’s the Mount Everest of the film world. For more Bergman check out Wild Strawberries.

3. Trainspotting

This is Danny Boyle at his best. Who knew a film about heroin addicts in Scotland could be so entertaining.

2. La Haine

Over 20 years after it was made, La Haine is as relevant as ever. It brings social unrest to the big screen, showing us that Paris is not the romantic and happy city portrayed by Hollywood. La Haine gives a voice to the marginalised.

1. Divorce: Italian Style

This comedy is gold. I feel like Mastroianni’s performance influenced everything from Blackadder to Nanni Moretti in this film. It’s also one of Scorsese’s favourites.

Honourable Mentions:

Wild Strawberries, The Exterminating Angel, Aguirre: The Wrath of God, The Marriage of Maria Braun, Dear Diary, Insomnia, Toni Erdmann, Son of Saul

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Holy Emy – AFI Fest 2021

Emy and her older sister Teresa live alone in Pireaus, the port City within greater Athens, after their mother is forced to return to the Philippines. They survive by avoiding the locals, attending church, and working at the local fish market. However, as their jobs fall through and Teresa grows more heavily pregnant, Emy seeks out Mrs. Christina to put her magical abilities to work. However, in coming out of hiding, Emy risks exposing her talents to the wrong people.

In Holy Emy, Emy and Teresa barely look old enough to care for themselves. They both look like teenagers but neither are in school – Teresa works at the local fish market, whilst Emy avoids most human contact now that her Mum has returned to the Philippines. It’s not clear why Emy didn’t return with her Mum. Perhaps her Mum thought she had enough support in Piraeus to stay whilst she returned home. She has her older sister, a neighbor that looks out for her (often condescendingly), and the support of the Filipino community at the local church.

The Filipino community is ‘othered’ in Holy Emy. All the Filipino characters are either overly devoted to Catholicism or have ancient powers which mimic Catholic Saints (hence the title). They’re also fetishized by the white characters in the movie. Teresa’s boyfriend keeps pointing out her Asian features when they’re making out, making it seem like he’s only into her because she looks exotic, whilst Mrs. Christina uses Emy, her mother, and other Filipinos for their magical abilities to heal people. There isn’t a reason why just the Filipinos have these old-world powers, which makes them appear even more exotic to the white characters. These defining characteristics fetishize the Filipinos in Holy Emy build up their ‘otherness’ vs. the white Greeks and Greek society.

Emy’s character in particular feels problematic. Her character, even more so than the rest of the Filipino community in this film, is made to seem unusual. She hardly speaks throughout the movie and is often pictured giving people creepy horror-film stares. Without a voice, she’s defined by her magical abilities: her ability to cry blood, heal, and control people through her touch and thoughts. Her silence and unusual abilities turn her into an old-world exotic fetish. Her character is just used as a tool to shock the audience and demonstrate her otherness. She, like the Filipino community in Holy Emy, are made to appear from another world – their magical powers and religious fervor don’t fit within modern Greek society. They’re fetishized for the sake of the quirkiness of this art-house body-horror.

Head to our AFI Fest 2021 Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2021.

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Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World

Do Not Expect Too Much for the End of the World

Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World film difficulty Ranking: 4

Radu Jude is no stranger to controversy or satirizing contemporary society. His previous feature, the Golden Bear winning Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, took aim at sexism, nationalism, and consumerism with COVID-19 and sex as a backdrop. Before that, he highlighted his country’s hidden involvement in the holocaust in I Do Not Care if we Go Down in History as Barbarians. Both of these films packed a strong punch of humor and cynicism, but Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World is his most potent critique of the world today and a movie that will define the 2020s for later generations.

From: Romania, Europe
Watch: IMDb, Just Watch
Next: Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, No Bears, Sorry to Bother You

The Breakdown

Don’t expect Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World to be an easy watch. Unless you’re familiar with Radu Jude’s recent films, you might be confused why this film keeps cutting to an old communist-era Romanian film about a female taxi driver or why we spend the majority of the central narrative literally stuck in traffic. Don’t expect a resolution from the side-narratives either. All of the threads might seem random but they all contribute to the bleak and cynical tapestry of the modern world that Radu Jude creates.

You might be thinking; “why would I want to watch a cynical tapestry of the modern world? The world is bleak enough right now.” To which we say; “fear not, you will have a guide in the madness.” Ilinca Manolache’s Angela is like Virgil in Dante’s Inferno. She’ll show us the hellish signs of late-stage capitalism – wealth inequality, corporate indifference, virtue signalling – and fiercely confront them with her dark humor. She’s integral to Jude’s critique of modern life as her humor makes it digestible and more like a bad dream than a shameful reality.

You might also be thinking; “why does Jude keep cutting to an old Community-era Romanian film?” The film in question is Angela merge mai departe, shot during Nicolae Ceaușescu’s authoritarian rule. It follows a female taxi driver as she ferries a range of male passengers around the city. The film highlights the danger of being a woman – she’s caught eyeing a wrench to use as a potential defense against one passenger – and is on the receiving end of leering eyes of men on the street, which Jude intentionally shows in slow motion. But her experiences are not significantly different to that which modern Angela faces. By including this communist-era film within Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World, Jude forces us to compare the two eras. Ultimately, and depressingly, life under the dictatorship appears no worse than today. You might even interpret the 80s as better. For one, it’s shot in color vs. the monochrome of modernity so it looks warmer, and secondly 80s Angela is free from corporate exploitation.

Conclusion

Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World is an era defining film. It’s bleak tapestry of the modern world marks a new low-point in Romanian (and modern capitalist) society. Just like Dante’s Inferno, we’re guided with dark humor through the hell of modernity and left to ponder how we got here.

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Hive – A Group of Widows Bond Against the Patriarchy and Grief

Hive Film Difficulty Ranking: 2

In Hive, a struggling widow starts making Ajvar to get by. Setting an example for self sufficiency, the town’s widows flock to her to share their grief and start healing. However their independence faces backlash from the patriarchy.

From: Kosovo, Europe
Watch: Trailer, JustWatch
Next: Writing With Fire, Beatriz' War, Shok

Hive – The Breakdown

Before watching Hive, all of the films I’d previously watched from Kosovo were affected by the Kosovo war. Whether directly or more indirectly, the trauma of the war that forged the country’s birth just over 20 years ago has never had a chance to heal.

Hive is no different. Fahrije’s husband has been missing for what might be years. Her father in law and two kids still believe he is alive. But she seems to believe he must be dead. Her face has been sucked of all emotion – as pointed out by her daughter – and she has started to move on. She visits mourning sites, such as the river where many local men were killed, and has also taken over some of her husband’s chores (bee keeping). She’s accepted his fate.

In addition to being a mother, Fahrije is forced to assume her husband’s role in his absence. So she seeks work to make a living in a neighboring town. However, she’s ostracized for behaving like a man with locals shooting her threatening stares and throwing bricks at her car and windows. Faithful wives aren’t supposed to learn how to drive and leave the house. In response, Fahrije also subconsciously takes on the stereotypical masculine emotions too, assuming an unemotional stoicism that confuses her kids. She hides her grief so deep to avoid dealing with it.

Her way out is not in independence through work but in company. Her successful Ajvar making business inspirationally brings together other widows together in community. They’re willing to sacrifice their honor because she’s taken the brave step to doing something about her situation and trying to move on.

What to Watch Next

If you’re looking for another inspirational story about a group of entrepreneurial women fighting the odds to succeed, try Writing with Fire. It features India’s only women-run news channel. Or if you’re looking for another story set within another traumatic event, Beatriz’ War follows a widow and her community fighting for freedom in East Timor. Or for more stories from Kosovo, try the tragic short, Shok, and feature film, Three Windows and a Hanging.

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Sirocco and the Kingdom of the Winds (France)

By Sebastian Torrelio

In the sparsest year for animation in some time, France has quietly put out what has been highlighted by the press as an “oddity.” Sirocco and the Kingdom of the Winds sports Juliette & Carmen, two young sisters staying with their neighbor Agnés for a spontaneous sleepover. Upon the first recess of supervision, they stumble into one of Agnés’ authored children’s books, are re-imagined as human-sized cats and seized by fantastically unevolved creatures. Within the book’s confinement they are assisted by Selma, an avian opera singer, who has connections to both the author’s past and to the most powerful figure in the land, the air-bound and unpredictable magician Sirocco.

Chieux’s Annecy Audience Award-winning feature is as simple as the art-house form ever presents itself, a fairy tale guided by so many instantaneous decisions the room to breathe compresses just short of heart-stopping. As Juliette and Carmen stumble into their neighbor’s tales, so does curiosity bite their new cat-like instincts near immediately, finding them in various states of ownership, imprisonment, freedom, and heroic resplendence within as little as 30 minutes of runtime. Nothing about Sirocco is hard to follow, a credit to Chieux’s knack for embedding a child’s perspective into his wonderland of immense proportions, yet the story’s constant moving target of new objectives does hinder its otherwise easygoing nature. Even in the opening minutes, the rug is pulled out by a change of perspective, the protagonist quickly redirected from a sleepy Agnés to the children’s hurricane of energy.

For what may prove more divisive in the Kingdom of Winds is Chieux’s choice of art-style. Sirocco is not crude-looking, per se, but intentionally rough and sparse in between the lines. Layers of atmosphere and Earthly settings in Selma’s world are rendered in light, ambient colors, near nothing to saturation, over layers of even further comparable color swatches. The character designs, aside from Selma herself, are rather spare – crowds of minions, flying beasts and assistants all with a bulb-like rounded figure, clone-like blobs fighting frenetic stick-limbed beings. Even the first fantastical character Juliette and Carmen encounter, a small wooden toy, humorously reminded me of a cheap Adult Swim character. Still, many will find the minimalism of anything presented at two dimensional-face value as charming these days.

Far and away, Sirroco’s biggest asset is its score – classical and orchestral, booming in its symphony, particularly in the theatrical setting it will get minimal playtime for in the United States. For all its public anime comparisons, the music of Sirocco is what ties it closest to recent Studio Ghibli efforts, a bountiful mixture of adventure and climactic overture to soundtrack the sights of Selma’s overhead journey. French vocalist Célia Kameni provides Selma’s singing voice, a baroque operatic performance that stuns in its un-poplike nature, her gorgeous, sustained notes an instrument in their own right.

If this review did not imply otherwise, Selma’s very existence is the only thing that holds Sirocco together as a story. Strong and goodhearted, but not without emotion, she keeps the value of a more considered, budgetary (real world) animation intact while engaging with naivete at every plot turn. Her most sagely words of wisdom echo what Chieux may have thought bringing her into this world: “Such a shame. The audience gets to see what artists they want. But the artists do not get to choose their audience.” With its bounty of unrestrained whimsy, Sirocco will be buried under other European efforts into the second half of this year, where it will advocate on its own modern merits for adolescent viewing attention. It should nevertheless not go unnoticed – many of life’s most pleasant joys are better stumbled upon, or into, anyway.

Seen at Laemmle Royal, Los Angeles