Part-social indictment, part-cautionary tale – The Hunt is a searing, finely judged portrayal of one man’s staunch battle against collective condemnation, directed with supreme skill by Vinterberg and performed with impressive strength by Mikkelsen – a career-best performance that will leave emotional bruises.
Let me clarify the above headline – I’m not miffed about Amour the Film. I haven’t seen it. I’m miffed because I cannot go and watch it. Which exacerbates my trivial resentment against the large majority of the over-privileged BFI members, who all bought tickets en masse, sending us all destitute mortals into cinematic oblivion. Film festivals are so bourgeois!
It’s that groovy time of the year again (no, I’m not talking about Christmas just yet). For all of us in London who couldn’t afford to sail to Cannes or go back-packing en-route to Venice, October is a super special time for self-confessed cineastes with a shoestring budget like me so I could go film-whoring along both sides of the Southbank in the 56th London Film Festival.