Tuesday, 21 April 2026

BFI Flare 2026: The Stats

An image from the film Queen of Coal. A close-up portrait of a glamorous woman with long, wavy dark hair, wearing a tiara and earrings.

The 40th edition of BFI Flare, the UK’s leading LGBTQIA+ film event, closed on 29th March seeing a continued growth in audiences attending in-person events at the festival’s home, BFI Southbank. The 40th anniversary edition of BFI Flare attracted audiences of 39,405. This included 8,087 attendances for two special anniversary exhibitions and a documentary marking BFI Flare at 40. Over 12 days between 18–29 March, audiences enjoyed 65 features and 63 shorts from 48 countries at screenings at BFI Southbank. The festival hosted 31 World Premieres, 9 International Premieres, 11 European Premieres and 33 UK Premieres.


Over 250 filmmakers and their teams attended with guests including Pamela Adie, Celyn Jones, Callum Scott-Howells, Ruby Stokes, Louis Hynes, Tom Rhys-Harries, Hiroaki Matsuoka, Alex Burunova, Fionn Whitehead, Helen Walsh, Lorne MacFayden, Xiaodan He, A.P. Pickle, Richard Bernstein, Nick Butler, Noah Parker, Liza Weil, Kaden Connors, Douglas Smith, James Lewis, Lexi Powner, Friedel Dausab, Rosana Flamer-Caldera, Isabel Daly, D’Arcy Drollinger, Ethan Fuirst, Julian Lautenbacher, Daniel Ribeiro, Brydie O'Connor, Fabian Suarez, Juan Ramos, Todd Wiener, Ramiel Petros, Nicholas Freeman and Xinyi Cao.


World Premieres presented at the festival include Madfabulous, Celyn Jones’ quirky period drama based on the life of Henry Cyril Paget, the dancing Marquess of Anglesey, starring Callum Scott Howells, Ruby Stokes and Rupert Everett. Directed by Hiroaki Matsuoka, Beyond the Fire: The Life of Japan’s First Pride Parade Pioneer dives deep into Japan’s queer history, highlighting the incredible life of Teishiro Minami who pioneered the country’s first Pride march. Two queer best friends are forced to confront the gradual dissolution of their friendship when they go on an annual hiking trip in Ethan Fuirst’s Can’t Go Over It


The awe-inspiring 4K restoration of Pink Narcissus (1971) was also presented in the programme. Directed by James Bidgood, this milestone of experimental cinema and a landmark of queer representation, presenting the erotically charged dreamscape of a young hustler, is a celebration of the male body and has gone on to influence artists such as John Waters, Pierre et Gilles and Charli XCX. Once shrouded in mystery, this canonical work of queer cinema has been restored by UCLA Film & Television Archive. The Flare UK Premiere of the 4K restoration of Pink Narcissus coincided with UK-wide screenings of the film.

Source/images: BFI

Tuesday, 14 April 2026

Rose of Nevada (Mark Jenkin, 2025)

An image from the film Rose of Nevada. Two men in casual clothing are walking in a coastal area.

Mark Jenkin's new film Rose of Nevada is a haunting and atmospheric time-loop drama set in a struggling Cornish fishing village.  The narrative centres on the eponymous boat, lost with all hands 30 years prior, which mysteriously reappears, offering two young unemployed men—rootless drifter Liam (Callum Turner) and family man Nick (George MacKay)—the opportunity to crew the vessel.  Following their first fishing expedition, they return to shore only to discover that they have been transported back in time to 1993, when the seaside town was still thriving, and the pair are mistaken for the boat’s original crew.


This time-shift brings about a reversal of fortunes for the two men, at least during the periods when they are on dry land (though, in truth, there is little dry land in this rain-lashed coastal village).  In effect, Nick has lost his family, while Liam has suddenly acquired one.  This dynamic becomes a source of mounting tension between the pair, each of whom has a very different approach to the situation: as the brooding Nick squats in the empty house he will one day own, the blithely opportunistic Liam assumes the identity of one of the drowned fishermen and settles into his new domestic role alongside the dead man’s partner and child.


But their days at sea prove to be a great leveller, and the two men—freed from the complications of life in the village—form a capable team as they labour in perilous conditions to bring in the daily catch, urged on by a ghostly captain (Francis Magee) who reminds them how much those at home depend on their success.  Liam and Nick have been given real purpose, yet they cannot escape the awareness that a watery grave awaits them if events unfold as they did for the ship’s original crew.  The time-slip conceit recalls that of Jenkin’s excellent previous film, Enys Men, which similarly nagged and needled the viewer.


Rose of Nevada is certainly starrier than Enys Men, with MacKay and Turner both fully committed to this very singular vision, and it feels curiously enmeshed with its predecessor (the eerie mayday call heard in Enys Men hints at a link to the ghost ship at the heart of Jenkin's latest feature).  Set in a Cornwall where cream teas and second homes have been supplanted by food banks and leaking roofs, Rose of Nevada offers a commentary on the present from which its two protagonists are ripped—but it is at its most powerful when it unfolds as a Resnaisian meditation in which memory and the past are the prime movers.

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI

Tuesday, 7 April 2026

Reflection in a Dead Diamond (H. Cattet/B. Forzani, 2025)

An image from the film Reflection in a Dead Diamond. Two elegantly dressed people are sitting at a table on a terrace overlooking the sea.

Brussels-based duo Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani's dazzling fourth feature film, Reflection in a Dead Diamond, sees normal service resumed for the pair as it discards the relatively coherent storytelling of their previous effort, the spaghetti western-influenced Let the Corpses Tan.  While it improves on both its predecessor and the directors' bafflingly overrated debut Amer, it nevertheless lacks the underlying eeriness that made their second film, The Strange Colour of Your Body's Tears, so engrossing.  It seems unlikely that their new film will do too much to improve their commercial standing; even after just four films, there's the keen sense that Cattet and Forzani are simply preaching to the converted.


As with their other features, Reflection in a Dead Diamond sees the husband-and-wife filmmakers looking conspicuously south to Italy, though this time their eyes are fixed less on recreating a giallo and more on fashioning something closer to a 60s Eurospy flick in the vein of Mario Bava's Danger: Diabolik.  But don’t be lulled into thinking this makes the film straightforward—in truth, it is borderline incomprehensible, and its slavish recreation of worn spy movie tropes masks a narrative that is virtually impossible to piece together.  Unsurprisingly for this pair, Reflection in a Dead Diamond proves a difficult work to get a hold of, and it proves as discombobulating as Cattet and Forzani's first two feature films.


Reflection in a Dead Diamond follows aging, retired spy John Dimas (Fabio Testi) as he reflects on his storied career in espionage.  Dimas is currently staying in a plush seaside hotel—though he’s been rather tardy in paying his considerable bill.  From there, he reminisces about various missions undertaken by his younger self (Yannick Renier), and many of these extended flashbacks focus on Dimas’ duels with his nemesis, Serpentik (Thi Mai Nguyen), who assassinated an oil magnate (Koen De Bouw) whom Dimas had been tasked with protecting.  While these well-wrought sequences are immersive in themselves, they provide us with few clues as to how everything fits together—or if it’s even meant to.


Whether Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani can push their singular vision much further remains to be seen—after just three films, their impeccable technical skills were as obvious as their cinematic influences.  With the possible exceptions of the second sequels to both Tron and Avatar, it is hard to think of another 2025 release for which the cinema experience feels so necessary.  The mode of exhibition is particularly critical here: Reflection in a Dead Diamond is both a triumph of form over content and an eye-popping spectacle which, even at less than 90 minutes, borders on the fatiguing.  One wonders whether the home viewing experience will allow audiences to see past its jagged, elliptical approach to storytelling.

Darren Arnold

Images: BFI